#Holy hells do I need to update this fic

[wily-one24]

Fic Update: Foolish Game

Don't want to start from the start? Click here to jump to chapter four.

Missed the whole thing from the start? Begin reading Wicked Game to see what you missed.

[orangekittyenergy]

On Tails and Horns

NSFW Rolan Fic

Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, tail touching, horn stroking, dry humping, first kiss, touch starved Rolan, she/her Female Tav, mostly sexy flirting but with smut at the end, basically all angst and anticipation really, I guess subRolan

Words: 6000 (once again this got completely out of hand)

Summary: Tav finally goes to visit Rolan in his new tower after a hard couple weeks of cleanup. Rolan is so delighted to see her and pent up with frustration and feelings that the lightest of touches is enough to make him lose all sense of himself.

A/N update: Holy hells thank you fine folk so much for the love on this one. I'm gonna go have a cry for real❤️😭

Read below or direct on AO3

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Tav and Rolan sat in his sitting room for tea, perched together, far closer than Rolan had intended, on the plush couch. The velvet couch was one of the many opulent vestiges from the previous owner. Books and scrolls aside, it certainly didn’t hurt to now occupy a fully furnished tower. The large vaulted windows were flung open wide, letting in a soft breeze and low hum from the movements of the city far below.

Rolan had been delighted when she came to visit. Tav had been so busy with helping the issues in the damaged city he hadn’t been quite sure when he would see her again. But he couldn’t deny the way his heart sang when she strolled through the doors over an hour ago, hoping to catch up with him now that she had a moment to breathe. Him, of all people.

But now here they sat; having discussed the details of both of their new lives, how life in the tower and store were going, the efforts to clean up the city, and the question of what lay next seemed to hover in the air.

Tav set her cup down on the side table and gave him a soft look.

“Thank you for taking time for me. I know you’ve been busy. But I really needed this.” She said and shot him what looked like an almost shy smile. Rolan blinked hard at her, surprised at her words as much as the look on her face.

“Thank...hah! I should be thanking you. Consistently and forever.” He set his own empty cup down as well. “I would have nothing were it not for you.”

“Oh, don’t pretend to be modest. You know you were amazing in the courtyard at that battle; I don’t know if we could’ve made it through without your help.” Tav reminded him.

Rolan cocked his head, looking away a moment in thought.

“Yes, I suppose I was rather amazing. I guess Cal and Lia helped some but my spells really sealed the fate of those wretched mind-flayers.” He mused with a slight smile. Tav always knew how to stroke his ego.

“But...really...thank you, Rolan. I’ve been meaning to visit sooner. I’m still staying at the Elfsong. Maybe we can do this again? Maybe dinner perhaps?” She said, almost casually. Just tossing asking him to dinner out there as if it was nothing. 

His breath caught in his throat. Dinner. His mind rang with the word as it seeped into every corner of his brain; trying to wrap his head around what that could possibly mean. Was she asking him out? That couldn’t be so. It was casual. Two friends catching up. But still, his mind immediately pictured the scene; dinner and wine at the Elfsong. He’d love to see her in something more dressy. No, that was ridiculous. She must have dozens of suitors.

"Ahem...dinner, yes. That... would be a fine idea..” He spoke haltingly, trying to fill the silence with words, any words, while he was still trying to work through the idea in his head, a thousand different scenarios crashing together at once.

As he struggled with this concept; it seemed the deepest part of his desires to be close to her, to get to know her in possibly more than a friendly setting, that he has previously pushed away, had bubbled up again and his body decided to act for him.

Tav felt a movement on her leg and shivered.

She looked down to see Rolan’s tail curled gently but insistently around her leg just above her knee, the tip trailing down to rest on her calf. He followed her gaze and his eyes widened with shock at the impudence and betrayal of his own tail. Before he could utter out the immediate string of curses and apologies that flew into his head, in that split second of fear that gripped him, Tav moved quicker and he froze.

She raised her hand from her thigh and gently placed it on the exposed section of tail atop her leg. All thoughts fled from Rolan’s head as a hiss and a full body shudder rolled through him at her whisper light touch.

The shiver extended all the way through his tail and Tav immediately raised her hand off it as if she had been shocked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I should've asked first-"

She started as he spoke at the same time.

"I am very sorry about that damn tail, I -" he paused, her words finally reaching his muddled brain. "Ask?" The word almost caught in his throat as he choked it out, incredulous. He caught her eyes flutter down to the offending tail, still around her leg, then back up to his meet his eyes with a blush. A blush? What did she have to blush about? It was his tail that got him into this predicament.

"Yes, sorry. I'm so sorry Rolan, I've heard tails can be sensitive...I should've asked first...it was just...it was right there." She gave a nervous chuckle and glanced away.

Wonderful, now I've done and mucked everything up, Rolan thought. The mere mention of dinner from her lips had left him already in shambles, unable to even control his own cursed tail. He frowned and cleared his throat, trying to still the building throbbing in his chest and regain his usual demeanor.

"No. I mean, yes, you should have." He said brusquely at first. Her eyes flickered away again and he quickly added. "They...uh...can be sensitive in some areas, yes." He swallowed thickly suddenly quite unsure of what to say. Tav met his eyes for a brief moment then looked back down. Rolan followed her gaze, already knowing full well what he would find and saw his damned tail, somehow wrapped, so it seemed, even tighter around her leg. He cleared his throat again but made no attempt to move it despite his nerves screaming at him.

"So, can I?" Tav spoke, pulling his attention back to her face. It was tilted down but her eyes peered up at him in what seemed to be a deliberately maddening pose.

"Can you....?" He hesitated, he was sure she couldn't be asking what he thought she was asking.

"Can I touch your tail?" She finished boldly. Rolan eyed her a moment, and swallowed thickly, his brain swirling with a million thoughts and his hands starting to tremble. He crossed his arms and tried to seem nonchalant about the entire situation and realized he was failing miserably.

"Sure. Yes. You may." He uttered, hoping his voice didn't waver.

Tav reached back out, hand tentative but confident and placed her palm again on the flesh of his tail where it rested on her leg.

The sensation was like a blaze of fire through his already burning hot veins. He bit down on his tongue, hard, to avoid another offending shiver and felt his eyelids flutter, betrayal of his own self control.

Thankfully, Tav’s eyes remained fixed on his tail, not noticing the immediate and dramatic way it affected him. Or, he realized, she might be tactful enough to be avoiding his face. Her touch became more firm as she well and truly let the full weight of her hand fall on it.

A sharp hiss of air escaped his clenched teeth as her hand moved slightly and her eyes finally returned to his.

"Is this okay?" She asked. Her voice was hushed, almost...he struggled to place her tone...reverent?

"Yes, yes it's fine." He breathed out, forcing himself to let the tension in his jaw relax. She began to ease her hand up slightly, tracing the bumps and ridges with her fingertips, digits gently paving the path for her palm to follow.

Rolan felt himself flush and wondered if Tav could tell the difference between his usual ruddy hue and the deeper scarlet of his blushes.

"Does it feel....good?"

His eyes had purposefully wandered but now snapped back to hers and narrowed slightly. Her expression was unreadable and even as her haunting words echoed in his ears he, again, couldn't sense the meaning behind her tone. Did she want it to feel good? Or was it pure curiosity that caused her to ask such a charged question?

And what’s more; how should he answer?

"It...does. The tail...my tail...seems to get more sensitive the higher up it goes." He tried to answer factually, logically even. It was true after all, but as quickly as the words left his mouth he realized the possible connotation of them. An invitation even. The corners of Tav’s lips flickered with a smile and her brow raised almost imperceptibly.

"Hmmm." Was the only response she gave. But her hand continued it's ascending exploration of his tail. It was now beyond the section just on her leg and was continuing on to where it dipped down a touch by his own legs.

Leaning forward slightly to extend her reach, she continued her careful mapping of the ridges, which were getting more and more pronounced as his tail progressed. She touched him as if she wished to memorize every single bump and pore; with a tenderness he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. The feeling was indescribable, but undeniably sensual. 

Rolan felt another shudder roll through him and couldn't contain this one. He felt it vibrate through his whole body all the way through and to the very tip of his tail and it gave a little flicker of movement against her calf. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or not that this one, as it trembled it's way down through his tail, didn't scare her hand away.

He stared at her hard, suddenly frustrated at her tender movements. Did she know how good it felt? Was she teasing him on purpose? To what bloody end? It was one thing to be touched so tenderly after so long, it was quite another to have his once detested bumps and ridges being the subject of such adoration. It was altogether brutal to have it be by someone that he wasn't even sure had further intentions with him. Other than being some...strange creature to fascinate over.

He squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how good it felt, how long he had wanted this, how soft her touch was, he had to stop this.

"I think-" he popped open his eyes intending on telling her to cease her activity but found that she had shifted while he battled internally and was now right beside him, her hips almost brushing against his own, her eyes firmly locked on his, watching his reactions carefully.

He wasn't just a subject of curiosity for her. He didn't know what she thought or what the intent was, but the burning in her eyes told him that it was far more than pure detached curiosity. He swallowed away his angry words, the frustration leaving him immediately, burned away by the heat of her gaze.

Her arm was now stretched out as far as it could go, ending just where his tail dipped down beside his thigh, before it would continue back up in a curve to reach the base. Incidentally, she had reached the point right where it started to become truly sensitive. It would've been positively indecent to let her continue.

His heart drummed hard in his chest, so loud he was certain she could hear it. He should end this, for decency’s sake alone. But couldn’t bring himself to conjure the words. A larger part of him was also so very desperate for her to continue; to see how far her boldness would take her. Take them. The two battling halves of his mind fought internally against each other. His mind fractured behind too many carefully crafted layers of strict composure.

He didn't have to struggle long. With a scoot of her hips again, her thighs well and truly pressed against his now, her arm bent at the elbow, giving her room to continue should she wish.

Rolan sucked in a sharp hiss of air at this development and stared at her carefully. Her eyes never left his. Her hand still firmly in place. The very air between them felt electric as if there was some magic from an unspoken spell being cast.

"Can I keep going?" She asked with a breath. His chest ached and again it took him a moment to register something. His need and eagerness for her touch along with his conflicting thoughts at the budding situation had made his senses dull. But as her words rang in his ears he heard something unmistakable. A nervous waver. In her voice. The slightest quiver. Of excitement or nerves; it could be either but he would take it. She was usually so, confident. Commanding even. To hear even a hint of a nerve in her voice at this situation stirred his insides and dispelled his doubts.

"Yes." He answered simply before he could stop himself with too much thinking. His chest hitched as her arm extended, stroking up his tail further, still using careful attention to the now more prominent peaks of cartilage. His jaw fell open slightly. The sensation of her hand almost too much to bear as another large shudder, stemming from her hand this time and rolling up his spine all the way to his scalp took him over.

She leaned forward further, her chest now dangerously close to touching his own. As her fingertips edged ever closer to the base of his tail he felt an unmistakable groan escape his lips. Her hand froze and he clamped his mouth shut with a snap both in the same moment.

His eyes darted away from hers, embarrassment welling up inside of him.

After an aching pause, his eyes still diverted, he felt Tav remove her hand and lean back away slightly. If the touch of her skin had lit a pleasant warm fire until under his skin, the sudden absence of it was a sharp painful sting of ice. Leaving him with a longing for contact that felt worse than if she hadn't touched him at all.

He finally pulled himself back to face her and was surprised to see her looking rather abashed. Her hands were sat back firmly on her thighs, gripping the fabric, a slight blush on her face, but... he could swear…was there a hint of a smile on her pink lips? Her confounding beautiful lips. 

Rolan opened his mouth to speak but once again words failed him. What could he say that wouldn't sound needy and desperate? How could he begin to ask her to continue to touch him without begging?

"Your tail felt very nice. Very soft. Sorry if I...went too far." Tav once again came to his rescue. This time rescuing him from the aching void of silence between them. Rolan blinked hard at her words. No one ever in the history of his knowledge had call his or anyone else’s tail nice or soft. As he absorbed her judgement of his tail, he realized she was staring at him expectantly.

"No, it was fine. It felt... good." A sudden surge of his own boldness possessed him, born of the sheer desire at having her hands on him again. To feel her touch him; somewhere. Anywhere. He started speaking before he knew what he was saying. "The...horns, if you were curious about them as well, also have a certain level of sensitivity... Not necessarily at the tips, but the base..." He couldn't even believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Desire had driven him absolutely mad.

Before he could begin to second guess himself he saw that the spark that flared up in her eyes was immediate. Her hint of a smile grew into a full fledged one.

Tav leaned forward slightly again and her eyes darted up to his horns.

"May I?" She asked, raising her hands up from her thighs until they hovered just over his own. He gave a gentle nod, not trusting his own voice at the prospect of being touched again.

Without hesitation now her hands raised to each place her fingertips at the point of each horn. Rolan dipped his head forward slightly to give her better access, practically bowing towards her. His own reverence at her caring touches.

She placed her fingers gently on the tips of his horns, again tracing across the thicker bumps and ridges, feeling her way around every groove as she explored. After just a moment there, she gently slid further down from the tips, lower and lower until they were thick enough to wrap a hand around. As she did so Rolan sucked a sharp gasp of air in through taut lips. Not so much at the sensation; it was altogether different than the soft flesh of his tail, but at her willingness to touch him again.

The feeling of hands on his horns was more akin to someone brushing his hair, not that he would know what that felt like; but it was more about the way it trickled down to his actual flesh that gave him shivers. But the feeling of her so close to him again, her desire to touch him again, her tender soft hands on the harshest parts of him; that was what truly drove his senses wild and made his insides coil with hunger. The feeling of her hands gently caressing his horns sent shooting sparks of sweet sensation across his scalp and he found himself clamping his mouth shut hard again to avoid making another wanton noise.

Heeding his words she seemed to move quicker down than with his tail, but as she reached the midpoint of his horns she slowed, her grip growing more delicate and exploratory again. As her hands slid across the grooves with care the sensation, the pulsing in his skin, grew stronger and stronger until his breath hitched and his breathing grew heavy once more. He stared down at her lap, trying in vain not to look directly at her chest.

His own hands, which had been absurdly useless thus far, clutched hard against the fabric of his robe at his thighs, as another shiver rolled down his spine. He felt it flow all the way down through his tail again. His eyes shot down at it. His tail. His damned tail that started this whole thing, still carefully curled around her leg, seemed to tighten involuntarily at the shudder. He wasn’t sure if he should be blessing or cursing that it seemed to have a mind of its own; operating purely on base instinct betraying his deepest thoughts and desires.

Her hands finally reached the base of his horns and tenderly traced the bumps from where they erupted from his skin, bringing forth another unintended deep groan of pleasure from the depths of his chest. At the noise his eyes darted back up to meet hers and he found her watching him intently, her lips parted slightly.

Thankfully, her hands didn't stray, undisturbed by his obvious, even lewd enjoyment of this. They stayed; soft, tender, and so caring on his flushed burning skin.

As her hands seemed to finish their careful explorations of the flesh at the base of his horns, he still had almost half-expected her to pull away. The game complete. The research done. A dark thought rolled through him before he could stop it that this was just a bit of fun for her. Teasing him like this.

But her hands lingered. He once again found her eyes, meeting them with a deep gaze as she slid her hands down, away from his horns until she was gently cupping his cheeks. Sparks shot through his entire body and his chest heaved, almost painfully so. The moment lingered, his fear and doubt still too deeply etched into his own skin in invisible scars to make a move first. A few weeks of comfort and a few moments of tender touching couldn’t erase a lifetime of hardships and disappointments.

Thankfully, Tav, was still the more bold of the two of them. Her eyes darted obviously down to his slightly parted lips then back up to meet his as she licked her lips.

“Rolan?” She breathed out softly.

He couldn’t trust that his voice wouldn’t shake. Couldn’t trust that any possible utterance of words would snap this beautiful fantasy in two and she would dissolve. Couldn’t trust that any noise he made would break whatever spell she was under and cause her to lean away. But she lingered, unwilling to move without word from him. He swallowed thickly again and replied.

“Yes?” He finally managed to eke out with a small gasp.

“Can I kiss you?”

All of the air seemed to leave the room. She spoke so freely. So honestly. A slight hush in her words but only the tiniest hint of a quiver in her voice.

It contrasted so starkly with the tremble that coursed through his body. Of course he wanted her to kiss him. What kind of a question was that? He wanted it more than he needed to breathe. But somehow, the words out there, the possibility at hand, filled him with a deeper fear than he knew existed. A fear that threatened to overtake even his desire for her. A lingering voice that scolded him; ‘you will never quite be good enough.’

She licked her lips again and Rolan finally found the courage to quell the voice once and for all. She gave him courage. She always had. She had been there for him when no one else was; not even himself. It had always been within him, the confidence, the desires; but she had been patient enough to slowly ease it out.

“Yes, please…” He croaked out.

She leaned forward, hands still on his cheeks and placed a tender lingering kiss on his lips. The sensation of her caressing his tail was nothing compared to this. To the soft, slightly moist feeling of her warm lips pressed against his.

It sent another surge of confidence and unleashed passion coursing through his body. He could already feel his tail tightening around her leg again. His hands, trembling with anticipation and desire before, useless on his lap, now reached forward, reaching for her, eager to pull her close.

The kiss deepened, spurred on by his reaction; Tav opened her mouth, welcoming him in and leaned in further. His hands found her waist, gripping it tight as her own tongue replied to his, dancing carefully over and around his pointed teeth.

Rolan couldn’t help but groan slightly as his body lit up with sparks, every sensation he had ever felt, good or bad, seemed to pale in comparison to this divine moment. Her mouth hot against his, their breath mingling. He found his stomach was flipping over, and there was a deep aching stir in the very core of his body. Tav leaned even closer, practically in his lap now even though her hips still firmly sat on the couch beneath them.

He struggled to keep up with her tongue at first. Hers was so careful and precise and he felt sloppy and careless, sweeping along her lips and occasionally fumbling out of them as he struggled to keep up and simultaneously rushed to catch up; kissing her like it was his first and last kiss. All messy and nervous and wet and eager.

Patient as ever, Tav slowed, giving them both a moment to find the right flow, adjusting her head to tip it to the side so they could lock lips fully. He breathed out a pleased sigh into her mouth as they found a pleasant connection, leaving their awkward tongues behind.

Confidence again surging, he tugged at her hips with a new found greedy need. Greedy. He once teased her with that very word, but now very much felt the acute actuality of the word itself. He was greedy for her. He needed more of her. Now that he had been given a taste, he felt practically insatiable.

Catching note of his eager tugs, without question or request now, Tav lifted up her legs and straddled his lap, letting his body adjust to sit back against the couch. The new position allowed a new level of closeness. Her body pressed fully against his now, his pulse pounding hard between them.

Rolan felt positively dizzy. Giddy even; and that was not a word he felt he had ever used or thought of using before. He wrapped his arms fully around her back now, taking advantage of the closeness to run his hands up and down her clothed spine. His tail had released her leg at her movement and now joined his hands at her waist, resting almost scandalously against the swell of her ass. Her own hands drifted down from his face, resting on his shoulders and gently playing with the edges of his hair that rested there.

He released another shuddering moan into the kiss, feeling her body sink deeper onto his, his body still lighting up in sensations he felt he never knew before. As his mind hurried to catch up to the evolving situation and new desires continued blooming within, one thing quickly became achingly clear. Much as his tail betrayed him before, he now felt a throbbing hardness hidden under the layer of his robes and pants. He had felt it pulse and twitch earlier at her careful caresses, but now with her intentions laid bare, the situation far from friendly, and her body pressed against his, there was no denying it as the blood rushed ever further down into his groin.

For a brief moment he felt as if he was almost searching for new things to fear to ignore the comfort and passion of their kisses. As perceptive as ever, Tav seemed to notice this new wave of nerves. That, or he realized, she couldn’t help but feel his erection pressed against her due to their proximity. She finally eased her mouth away from his, allowing them both to suck in a few much needed gulps of air.

Catching his eye and leaning her forehead close to his, he felt her adjust and give a long slow roll of her hips against his hardness.

Even through the many layers of fabric the sensation of pure pleasure that tore through him was undeniable. An unmistakably vulgar groan fell from his lips before he could quell it and he felt his eyelids flutter. Tav simply smiled, and repeated the motion, spreading her knees as wide as they could go to push her hips further against him.

Rolan trembled with delight; his mind once again racing to catch up to this new development. But as his mind looked for ways to worry about this, he found himself coming up blank. The unrelenting lust and passion of the situation finally staking claim on all of his senses. It felt so good. Too good to ignore or deny further.

Another roll of her hips had his heart racing at the unimaginable level of pleasure just the mere friction of her body pressing against his made him feel. She moved more purposefully now, without pause or hesitation, grinding her very core, her own heat, against him. Her goal it seemed, lay in far more carnal pleasures than just simply driving him mad.

He dipped a hand under the edge of her loose tunic as she continued to writhe against him, and he splayed his hand across her naked back. Savoring again the feeling of her flesh against his.

It was miraculous. It was indecent. It was passionate. It was lewd. But most importantly in his head, above all else – it just felt so fucking good.

“Tav…” He groaned, unable and now finally unafraid of holding back his vocal enjoyment at this point. “If you keep going...I...I’m going...to…” Each word came out punctuated by a heavy gasping breath. He was fully panting now, the sheer ecstasy at feeling her rut against him, at the friction rubbing against his hard cock, at the entire situation really – all already so close to pushing him over the edge.

Her response was immediate. She paused her rocking and pulled back a touch to look him square in the eye. There was not a trace of annoyance in her face; just pure care for him. For his comfort.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked, a little breathless. His throat burned. The immediacy of her response to him. Her unfaltering care for his feelings. The genuine and absolute respect. It struck him hard in the chest and felt almost as painful as the sudden loss of her delicious movements.

His eyes met hers. Part of him realized how improper this all was. He should be lavishing her with flowers and gifts. He supposed. He didn’t have much experience with it, but came to understand that was the thing to do during proper courtships. But a deeper part of him didn’t care. The city was in crumbles around them. They had defeated an army of mind-flayers and he himself had been to hell and back. To the hells with what was proper. He had tied his life to being stifled and composed; there was a time and place for it and now was neither.

“No, please don’t stop.” He finally breathed out. She grinned and leaned back in for another sweeping kiss, immediately resuming the pulsing and rocking of her hips against his. His entire body filled to the brim with burning fire again and another loud moan fell from his lips and the return of the sensation that was bringing him to the brink.

Tav was moaning too, he realized, soft breathy sounds, her breath hot against his ears. Provoked by the idea that she was possibly getting even a tiniest bit of the same level of pleasure from this that he was, he sat up slightly. He wrapped his arms fully around her, drawing her closer and holding her tight.

All last thoughts of maintaining composure well and fully gone, he thrust his groin up in time with her own movements. It took him a moment to find the right rhythm, the practice of movements such as this not in his natural repertoire. But before long they synced up in unison and increased the pace.

“Yes. Tav. Please. Tav. Please. Yes.” Words spilled from his lips with each jerking movement as the sensation within him built to a feverish peak. As the tingling feeling crested within him, at the last moments, all words seem to fail. Only moans and salacious grunts remained.

His grip tightened around her waist, one clawed hand grasping at her shirt, the other leaving scratches on her bare back as his body begin to coil and tense. It was the moment just before a spell releases, that last uttered syllable as it traveled from throat to teeth to air, bringing forth all kinds of magic into existence. He met her eyes again and she was that moment.

Her face was flush from her exertions, her pupils blown wide, staring at him with pure desire, her absolute and incessant need to take care of him. Him.

A last roll of her hips and he was done. He cried out obscenely as his tension released and he came so hard that his head spun. His cock pulsed, pressed hard between them, spilling his seed in his pants beneath his robe. As waves of his orgasm crested and rolled through his shaking and sputtering body, he felt his whole body begin to release in a way he didn’t think was possible. He tossed his head back to lean on the back of the couch it seemed like every muscle in his body went limp at once. He indeed thought he might pass out with the way his heart pounded in his chest and he sucked in deep gasps of air; thinking he might never catch his breath.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind he thought of the mess he had made, in his own clothes no less, but it was quickly overtaken by the feeling of Tav leaning close, looking to close the gap he had created by sinking into the couch.

She placed a wet kiss against the throbbing pulse of his neck and nuzzled her face there while he rode out the high of his own selfish, greedy pleasure.

After a moment of deep breathing and bliss, his heart started to calm and points of panic and fear started to creep back into his mind one by one. He adjusted his head slightly to sit up, needing to face her. Feeling him move, Tav sat up further as well to meet his eyes, but made no move to climb down off his lap.

“Can I still take you to dinner?” He asked quickly as their eyes met, addressing the most pressing of his concerns; that this was just a little fling. He pulled his hand back out of her shirt, wanting this to feel as formal and romantic as possible now, given the situation. Tav smiled brightly and gave an eager nod, leaning in for a quick, and rather chaste, kiss.

“I would be a little offended if you didn’t.” She raised a brow at him. “How about tonight?” She suggested and he once again reveled in her boldness. A quality, he quite felt, that was rubbing off on him.

Rolan cleared his throat; it would be next to impossible to regain full composure after what they had done, but he still tried.

“Yes. Grand. Wonderful. Great. We shall...um… have dinner tonight then.” He said, sounding almost curt in his attempt to seem collected.

Tav was utterly unfazed by his tone and gave him another smile and a tender kiss on his lips before starting to try and disentangle herself from his hands and tail, intending on standing up.

Despite the embarrassing mess in his pants, despite the awkwardness of the situation, despite her trying to start to pull away; he found himself pulling her back. His whole body, not just his tail this time, speaking for him and refusing to let her go. He pulled her back in tightly and pressed his cheek to hers, letting his eyes shut with a soft sigh as her warm body enveloped his.

Tav paused a moment before giving in and wrapped her arms around his neck, relaxing herself back into his arms.

“Can we just…stay like this a moment more?” He whispered softly into her neck before he lost the courage to do so. He found himself struck with a deep fear at letting her go. It overtook any apprehension he felt about actually giving his feelings a voice. What if she didn’t come back? What if something happened to her? What it what if what it. But, most striking among his worry, was the ache he could already feel at lack of contact. Now that he had felt her touch he didn’t think he could survive without it.

“As long as you like.” Tav whispered back with a smile against his cheek.

[cherrywrecked]

sext — uchinaga aeri.

i'm back, sort of. still won't be too active, but i'm hoping to post new write ups / updates more often. i'm so sorry if this is short, i just couldn't take my mind off of this one, i had to write it.

tags: giselle x oc. teasing. masturbation. sexting. nsfw video right in the middle of the fic. wear your earphones.

ever since that night where giselle had drunkenly made out with you and humped herself on your lap to her orgasm, you just couldn't take your mind off of her. hell, you had even made plans on fucking her the next day, but it was finals week and you had barely seen her. it was as if the two of you were just coexisting at the same place and it was pissing you off. despite that, the two of you never stopped teasing each other since that night, like the two of you had just been waiting for that opportunity to finally be able to do this. you both had been constantly exchanging nasty messages to each other—nothing more, just sexting. however, giselle seemed to be very stressed lately, that she had decided to take things further this time.

giselle:

hey, babe. i missed you. when are you coming home?

to your surprise, giselle had sent you a message in the middle of your study session at the library. you quickly replied to let her know you won't be home until evening, to which caused aeri to frown as she read your message. she can't take it anymore. she needed you, but she can't right now. but she can, however, fuck herself to the thought of you, can't she?

giselle:

but baby, i'm so horny...

i want to feel your fingers inside of me already.

i want you to fuck me... can't you just come home and do that?

mhm... it feels so good humping my pillow while thinking about you.

my pussy's throbbing just thinking about you... bet you're thinking about me now too.

naughty girl, are you fantasizing about us fucking in the library? me eating you out underneath the table?

fuck, i need to cum...

she was driving you insane that you couldn't focus anymore. thank god the messages stopped. but it didn't even take her twenty minutes before she sent another message. this one, though, a whole lot different than the previous ones.

(nsfw video ahead! click the link if you wish to.)

giselle:

good luck studying today, loser. i'm about to fuck myself all over our apartment. feel free to join me, though—actually, i'd love that.

along with the text was an attached video of her fucking herself. with your dildo. in your kitchen. you don't know where she found it, but that was definitely your dildo she was using and holy fuck— that's all it took for you to start packing your reading materials and got ready to go home to where she was. but before leaving the library, you made sure to leave her a quick message to stimulate her even more.

you:

such a dirty little girl. fucking yourself in the kitchen counter? tsk. make sure you're in my bed when i get home in ten and i want to see you fucking your slutty cunt with my dildo, understand? i'll fucking ruin you.

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: October 2023

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post to let them know that they're appreciated 💜 And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | 💜 (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Drunk in Love by @joon4eva // knj x f.reader // bf2l // 🥰

📝 You and whiskey are never a good combination. or: you've been in love with your best friend for years and you might tell him about it while drunk.

🗨️ Just really cute and fluffy 🥰 🥺💖

Seokjin

⭐Sleepover by @peachypinkygloss // ksj x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵

📝 You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.

🗨️ Omg this was so good, the smut 😘🥵

Yoongi

⭐Oh, darling! [series; completed] 💯 by @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought? 

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵🫣😳 This is just one of my favorites series, EVER 💜 This is in my top 10, no questions! ✨

⭐Mami by @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader, knj x f.reader, jhs x f.reader // roommates!au, battle rap!au // 🥵

📝 You somehow have a conversation with Yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

🗨️ So, so good 🥵 really looking forward to more of this series 🥵 🫣

⭐Damn the Charcuterie Board 💯 by @bratkook // myg x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵

📝 This doesn’t have a summary, so here goes mine; reader has has a sling of unfulfilling sexual times, and in the company of her best friends, she thinks about a video she watched recently. Could they give her what she needed?

🗨️ This has been on my reading list for so freaking long! 🥹 And now I finally got to read it, and damn, it is one of the best, filthiest fics out there. So, so good! 💯🥵

⭐Cotton Candy Computer (1) [series; discontinued] 💯 by @softyoongiionly // myg x f.reader // hacker!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 Min Yoongi is the top hacker in the world. He has put away countless other cyber criminals all whilst evading detection by virtually everyone he has ever crossed paths with, including the government. The diabolical super hacker that came close to tracking him down is now serving a 10 year prison sentence, all thanks to Yoongi’s handiwork. So what happens when the sentence is shortened unexpectedly? What happens when the biggest threat to public safety is roaming the streets again, determined to get revenge on the man who put him away? What happens when the worlds most infamous hacker just so happens to manage your local Mikrokosmic Electronics? A terabyte of trouble.

🗨️ Shit this was incredibly good!!!! Why isn’t it finished? 😭 I don’t usually read unfinished or discontinued series, but the summary really had me and I just had to read it – and now I’m hooked and I want more of this sexy hot hacker Yoongi! 😭 The story was also just so well written and the chemistry between reader and oc was so fucking perfect, and don’t get me started on the smut, like ugh 🥵 Gosh, I’m so sad there aren’t more parts to it (like the author planned four parts). But it’s so so good, and the cliffhanger isn’t horrible (in terms of wanting to read the next chapter). It can definitely be read as a one shot, I just really, really wished there was more, because, fuck, it was perfect! 💯💜✨

⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] 💯 by @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ Holy fucking shit, I know I’m late to the party (I see it’s still going too! 🎉), but goddamn that was one of the best fanfictions I’ve ever read 💖😭 I am deeply in love with 3tan – I read all that was available in a few days and nights, because I was so freaking hooked (and still am! No, I’m not dreaming about 3tan Yoongi 😇). Damn. I have been missing out, alright! Shit, the writing; excellent, characters; excellent, world building/story progression; excellent - like perfection 👏🏾 💎 💯 If you have not read it yet, do so now, like right now! I still can’t stop thinking about this and I’m already thinking about rereading it because it’s just that good. It’s definitely in my top 10 or even in my top 5 of my favorites! 🥇✨

Hoseok

⭐Helping Hands by @m-yg93 // jhs x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 Between your boyfriend getting into bed with another girl and finals taking all your time a cold rift has emerged between the usually warm movie nights with your best friend. Thankfully exams are over and Hoseok is back on your couch where he belongs. When some shit talking gets a little too close to home and Hoseok finds out you’ve never even had an orgasm he decides to take things into his own hands, and yours. 

🗨️ This was so hot, like what 😳🥵 also a bit funny, but mostly smutty 🤭

Jimin

⭐Desperate by @ressjeon // pjm x f.reader // model!Jimin, pa!reader // 🥵

📝 Being Jimin's assistant made you immune from his flirty tactics, but somehow you find it hard to resist him when he unusually becomes desperate.

🗨️ Omg this was so hot, I don’t have much to say about it, expect that 😳🥵

⭐Only You by @jiminniethemarshmallow // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After another woman kisses Jimin, he tries to convince you that he’s faithful with make-up sex.

🗨️ This was both hot and sweet! I really like how Jimin was doing his best to reassure OC, even though he did nothing wrong 🥹🥰

⭐Flirt 💯 by @chateautae // pjm x f.reader // college!au, sexual tension, pwp // 🥵

📝 Park jimin is a notorious flirt, but so are you. when you both meet at a party after weeks of back and forth, it’s a matter of time before somebody gives in.

🗨️ Okay, this is insanely hot - the smut 🤌🏾😘 a really fucking great pwp with a good amount of sexual tension and dirty talk 💜💯

⭐Vanilla 💯 by @aexthetic-suga // pjm x f.reader // pwp, dominate!Jimin, idol!au // 🥵

📝 Jimin is a busy guy. The idol life is not an easy one. With you missing him for three months due to his schedule, all you wanted was to spend his first night back with him. When that doesn’t go to plan, you end up spewing shit about your sex life with Jimin – or better yet, your lack of one.

🗨️ Excuse me, Park Jimin 🥵😳 this was incredible hot! And that gif! 🥵 A really great pwp 💯🌸

Taehyung

⭐One of the Boys 💯 by @littlemisskookie // kth x f.reader // childhoodfriends!au, slice of life, bestfriends!au, neighbors!au, high school!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him?

🗨️ Woaw! This was so incredibly good, it’s almost hard to describe, but I’ll try: it does a brilliant job at setting the story up, following oc and Taehyung since childhood, and how their friendship develops over time (and their feelings). It’s really cute and funny and with great smut at the end. Overall a brilliantly good read 💯

⭐Baby, Oh Baby 💯 by @jungkookiebus // kth x f.reader // established relationship, noneidol!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Taehyung and you have been trying for months to get pregnant; you’ve tried crazy diets, stuck to your calendar, got him to diet, but it’s all been for nothing. No matter how healthy your doctor says you are, you can’t conceive. Taehyung tries everything within his power to show you that everything is going to be okay and for one night he makes you forget all about the calendars, schedules, and all the crazy things that came with you trying to have a baby. 

🗨️ This was just really cute and loving 🥹The smut was also just ❤️‍🔥💯

⭐Baby Maker by @kookslastbutton // kth x f.reader // marriage!au // 🥵🥰

📝 You're pissed at your husband for being late to your weekly baby-making sessions.

🗨️ Aish, the smut in this 🔥Also all the dirty talk really had me going 🥵

⭐Til Death Do Us Part by @kookslastbutton // kth x f.reader // marriage!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Thinking it be a romantic gesture, Taehyung tosses your GPS out the car window while honeymooning in Italy. Too bad it gets you both stranded in the middle of nowhere though. What the hell are you gonna do now?

🗨️ This was just so funny to me 😂 Like Tae really threw the GPS out and was like ‘fuck it’! Pleasant and blushing read 🤭

Jungkook

⭐When the End Comes [series; completed] 💯 by @oddinary4bts // jjk x f.reader // breakup!au, slice of life!au, photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!reader // 🌩️🌩️🌩️🥵

📝 Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘The Forgotten Spaces’, which was just *chef’s kiss* 😘 The series is completed now – and afsfdfdsfg it was just so damn beautiful and the ending!!! It was definitely worth all my tears 🥹💜

⭐Love à Trois [series; ongoing] by @letjungcoook7 // jjk x f.reader x pjm // slice of life, f2l+s2l, roommates!au, college!au, love triangle // 🥵🌩️

📝 You and Jimin secretly have feelings for each other, you both realize your dream of studying at the same college and sharing an apartment, but when financial issues start to arise, you have to seek a third roommate. and guess who fate sends your way? Jungkook, the same guy who took your virginity back in high school.

🗨️ This is really good! There’s two chapters up already (I still need to read ch 2) and the first was so good. It’s so interesting to see the love triangle unfold. Really enjoyed this 🌸

⭐Burnout (1)(2)(3) [series; ongoing] by @aikastales // jjk x f.reader // college!au, fake dating!au // 🌩️🌩️🌩️😈

📝 After his ex-girlfriend broke up with him, jungkook enlists your help by asking and paying you to fake date him. accepting the offer, you get more than what you bargained for when jungkook starts showing his true intentions.

🗨️ This series was my first time reading yandere – and I am hooked, it’s so intriguing and disturbing at the same time, I really can’t wait to see how this story unfolds. It’s really, really good 👏

⭐Fragment of the Past (1)(2) [series; ongoing] by @ctrlsht // jjk x f.reader // patient!jk x psychiatrist!reader // 🌩️😈👻

📝 You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

🗨️ Another first for me, with the thriller vibes and damn it delivers on that! It’s really, really good 👏 Pacing is really good and how we see more and more of Jungkook’s disturbing traits is just brilliant ✨ 

⭐Mentally Physically Weak by @arainbowofchaos // jjk x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵

📝 Jungkook is waiting for you outside your workplace, a cigarette in his mouth, and you can hardly believe your luck. Above all, you're acutely aware of how weak you are for him, and you want to savor this moment as if it were the last.

🗨️ Almost equally smutty as it is sweet 🥺🥰 a really good read, and I really loved how JK was portrayed and how sweet he was with the OC 💖

Wow, October went really fast! I have now moved and I’ve gotten more time to both read and write again. And now it’s already November (also my birth month 🥳 and I might or might not have a surprise for you on my birthday!).

Borahae 💜

[irisintheafterglow]

love me from your point of view

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: ariana grande - "pov"

summary: you teach sakusa kiyoomi how to love, in spite of the cameras and the gossip.

wc: 8.45k

cw/tags: pro!sakusa x rockstar!reader, fem!reader in mind but no specific pronouns used, strangers to lovers, character study, explicit language, minor injury (blood/glass tw), mentions of drinking and alcohol, angst with happy ending <3

note: this is my contribution for the lovely sel's "and there's something, this feeling" collab to celebrate one year of @seiwas ! this is the longest fic i've written to date because i tried my best to go a character-driven route that i've always admired sel for rather than my usual plot-driven route. i hope you like this and happiest of anniversaries my wonderful sel :))))

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated :) check out the rest of sel's event here!

Sakusa Kiyoomi hated cameras. Unfortunately, in his line of work, they were essentially gnats buzzing constantly around his head. They were always trying to make him do something, look here or there, pose with his shoulders angling this way or that. After the commands came the interrogations, nosy reporters sniffing around his private life for something sellable. Then there were the phone cameras and the fans behind them, and they could be a hit or miss depending on if they respected his boundaries. When he was in highschool, he could get away with avoiding socialization; but now, as a striker for one of the most famous teams in the country, socialization was a required skill. 

“I’m happy you agreed to go with us, Sakusa,” Bokuto says for the fifth time since they parked at the venue in the heart of Tokyo. It was a little irritating, the way they kept thanking him for his presence like he’d back out if they didn’t continue expressing their gratitude. He couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to; Atsumu insisted on being the one behind the wheel and the car narrowly avoided a collision after Hinata said he’d missed the exit. “We know you’re still a little grumpy because of the drive, so don’t feel the need to talk to us right now.” 

“Hey, if you wanted to leave so badly, you could just call a car,” Atsumu points out, “but I know you secretly like spending time with us.” Sakusa fixes his teammate with a stare that could be perceived as a grimace, but his friends know him better than that. Sakusa wasn’t angry, he was bored. It was originally Bokuto and Hinata’s idea to see some artist he didn’t listen to in concert, saying that it was ‘a once in a lifetime experience’ and that the artist hadn’t played in the country in over a decade. He was vaguely aware of some songs, mostly because his teammates cranked the speaker volume during conditioning. Still, it wasn’t his ideal Saturday night, especially before a big game. “And, guess what?”

“Holy shit, box seats!” 

“We have our own bathroom!” Bokuto and Hinata’s shouts of excitement drown out the rest of Atsumu’s sentence and the security guards are barely able to open the doors as they tumble into the private section. 

“Yo, Shoyo. Be careful of that railing or you’ll fall into the general audience,” Atsumu warns while Hinata willfully ignores him, staring out over the crowds slowly filing into their seats. “Pretty cool, ain’t it?” Sakusa nods once, approaching the balcony and then deciding against it when he catches the telltale flash of a phone camera. Like clockwork, he and the other Jackals would be on every update page within ten minutes. A small object appears from behind the balcony wall, floating upwards in a thin arc before falling back to the seats below.

“The hell are they doing?”

“Sakusa, fans are trying to give us bracelets,” Bokuto beams, holding up his forearm halfway-covered in colorful beads. “Apparently it’s a tradition with this artist.”

“I don’t like gifts,” Sakusa deadpans, his mouth taut in a frown. “Tell them I can’t take it.”

“Too late,” Atsumu says, snagging a vibrant purple bracelet as it’s tossed upwards. He looks down at the eager fans below and claps, gesturing for them to throw more. “We’re already taking ‘em, so they’re gonna wonder why you’re not taking them too.”

“If they’re real fans, they’ll know I don’t like gifts,” he counters with narrowed eyes. 

“C’mon, Sakusa. Take one, at least,” Hinata says. His shorter teammate carefully pulls one off and slides it onto his wrist. The pattern alternates between yellow and lime green beads, with letter beads in the center spelling ‘NOKMLYDANOEW.’ It looked like Bokuto and Akaashi’s cat stepped on their computer keyboard. “The letters are an acronym for a song, I think. It’s an inside thing with the artist,” Hinata explains, leaning his bracelet-covered arms against the railing and waving to excited fans. 

“I’m gonna see if they have time to meet us backstage. The fans’ll go berserk.” Bokuto’s words make Sakusa’s eye twitch involuntarily. Staying longer than expected of him was a surefire way to make him irritated and they knew that. 

“Yeah, they’re not the only ones who will benefit from a little meet and greet,” Atsumu whispers cryptically and it’s impossible not to see the way he looks Sakusa up and down. 

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it, man,” Bokuto reassures him with a pat on the back, but he doesn’t budge. 

“No, I’m interested. What’re you on about, Miya?” 

“Trust us, it’s nothing!”

“Just grab a soju and relax, Sakusa–”

“They’re trying to set you up with the artist!” Sakusa flinches, turning slowly to his teammates that shrink away like vampires in direct sunlight. Hinata looks mortified, his hands slapped over his mouth as if to seal off what was already revealed. Atsumu and Bokuto shrug, giving him guilty smiles and showing their palms to convey their surrender. “That’s…that’s what they were talking about before we picked you up,” Hinata continues sheepishly. 

“This whole thing is a blind date?” He seethes through gritted teeth, the lights of the stadium starting to give him a migraine. “You guys brought me here to set me up?” 

“All we’re trying to do is have you meet someone new,” Atsumu says gently, stepping forward and then abruptly backward when Sakusa looks like he’s about to commit a homicide. “We think it’ll be good for you.” 

“I don’t care about new people. I have work and you idiots to keep me busy,” Sakusa argues, crossing his arms over his chest. The beads on his arm press into his skin and he fights the urge to rip the entire thing off. “Why would I wanna meet some musician I don’t listen to?” 

“Even if you don’t listen to their music,” Bokuto replies without hesitation, “You should read through their lyrics sometime; I think you’ll find a lot of stuff you can relate to. I bet they get just as much bad publicity as we do.” 

“As if,” he scoffs. “I don’t need someone with a purple guitar telling me what I think.” 

—

“You said there were volleyball guys in attendance, right? If they’re still here, I should probably meet them,” you say to your publicist as you step out from the automatic riser that brought you below the stage following the last song of the show. The sound of your platform boots echo on the linoleum in the back halls of the stadium, your exit music faintly audible from above. “Who are they?” 

“There’s four in total, along with some managers and press. They’re on a team called the MSBY Jackals, with an outstanding record in the sport. From what I’ve seen, three of them are pretty nice.” The two of you, along with a handful of security guards, climb into a waiting golf cart. 

“And the other one?” 

“Toss-up. He might not even talk to you.” You take a sip from your water bottle and briefly glance at the photo your publicist has pulled up on her phone. You can guess which one is the quiet one from his face in the photo alone, staring blankly at the camera while his other teammates smile brightly. 

“He looks like he’d kill me in my sleep,” you observe bluntly. “The type of serial killer people make fan accounts about.” 

“In his defense, I don’t think this is his type of crowd,” she shrugs, her attention flicking to the way you stretch your legs in the seat of the small vehicle. “Sore?”

“Beyond belief,” you chuckle, wincing as a small stab of pain shoots through your calf. “I think I might need a little more padding on the soles, if possible. Chunky heels, in all their wonder, were not made for three hour shows.”

“I’ll see what I can do. You focus on turning back on for the players.” 

After a few more minutes of sipping water and stretching out your legs in the backseat of the golf cart, you pull up to the loading dock where the four athletes are waiting. Two of them, one with iced tips and the other with vibrantly orange hair, practically jump in place when you arrive. The grumpy one lingers at the back of the group; the blonde player extends his hand to you as you step out. 

“Thank you so much.” You greet them with a practiced smile and hope your exhaustion isn’t too visible. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I couldn’t stop screaming the entire time and I think my voice is shot.” 

“You are incredibly talented.” 

“It was wonderful!” 

“Oh, I’m so glad. It’s such a pleasure to meet you all,” you say warmly, truly wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for 24 hours straight. Even when his friends chatter your ear off, the curly-haired one at the back doesn’t say anything. The short one with orange hair and the widest smile introduces himself as Hinata Shoyo, excitedly leading you to each of his teammates: loud Bokuto, flirty Atsumu, and reclusive Sakusa. You’re left alone with Sakusa when the other three rush off to find a bathroom, having been too excited to use one during your show. 

“I didn’t take you for the bracelet type, Sakusa,” you comment, clocking the single bracelet on his wrist. “The colors are nice, though. They go with your eyes.” You let some of your facade come down, mostly because you figured you didn’t need to be as energetic around this one compared to the others. 

“Yeah, Shoyo let me have one of his. Didn’t realize you had such a passionate fanbase,” he states and you fight the urge to laugh. “Or such a large one.”

“You didn’t think I had fans, Sakusa?” His eyes widen ever so slightly and the chuckle slips out before you can stop it, his ears turning a shade pinker. 

“Not what I said,” he backtracks, avoiding eye contact. “The show was good,” he continues unexpectedly, and you find yourself appreciating his praise more than you should. It was a triumph, in your mind, every time you won over a new listener, and he was no different. At least he wasn’t one of the guys harassing you in your Instagram messages. 

“I appreciate the compliment,” you say and catch his ears turning even redder. As much as he was trying to seem offputting, you could read him like a book. “You guys are in town for a game?”

“We’re playing not tomorrow night, but the night after. Coach would kill us if he knew we were going out before a big game,” he answers and you nod, gears starting to turn in your brain. It would be a headline tomorrow that the four players came to your show, but it would break the Internet entirely if you attended their game, especially in the middle of a sold-out tour. It was the kind of publicity you needed to drown out the tabloids. 

“My last show of this city is tomorrow night, but I can get away with skipping a rest day. Would it be weird if I came to watch you play?”

“You want to watch me play?” Sakusa echoes. The tiniest little smirk plays on the corner of his lips. Ugh. For all his introvertedness, he still had the ego of a pro athlete. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“I meant you guys. Don’t think I forgot about the players that actually came to talk to me,” you correct quickly. You exhale through your nose and shake your head with a small smile. The enthusiastic conversation behind you tells you that the rest of the team is returning. “Fine. Maybe I do wanna see who you are under all that antisocial attitude.” 

“Have fun with that. I don’t like new people,” he says, testing you. Too bad you were used to men that probably weren’t healthy for you. “There’s no changing that.” Your forehead throbs at his pure audacity, but you manage to keep an unbothered expression. 

“Good thing I love a challenge.” 

—

“I didn’t think they’d actually show up,” he mutters, taking another look at the large screens projecting the image of you in a VIP box. Sakusa didn’t recognize you without your concert makeup and stage outfit until Shoyo practically knocked him over in excitement. Seeing you smiling and catching your eye, even from at the bottom of the court, made his stomach turn in a way he wasn’t used to. 

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that first,” Bokuto beams, sending a powerful serve that barely cilps the top of the net. Sakusa finds his eyes drifting to your box, his scowl deepening when you blow an exaggerated kiss to his teammate. His next serve he puts more effort into, but when he looks up, you’re not even watching. Not only were you crashing his game, you were distracting his team. “Nice plan, Sakusa! Maybe we can become friends with them and go to each others’ events.” 

“That wasn’t my intention,” he cringes, the idea of spending more time with you making him nauseous. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the fact that you were making an effort to engage with him and his friends was outlandish. And all because he invited you to a game? Didn’t you have anything better to do?

“You thought inviting them to the game would scare them away, huh?” Atsumu’s watching Sakusa carefully, inspecting his disgruntled expression under a microscope. “Believe it or not, Omi, some people actually want to be around you…despite how difficult you make it sometimes.” 

“I don’t remember asking for your input,” he threatens, but the blonde Miya merely shrugs, impervious to Sakusa’s warnings. “Can we agree to ignore their presence? Focus on the game. It’s your job.” Atsumu and Bokuto share a look, with typical Hinata none the wiser. Whether they knew it or not, your attendance was throwing off Sakusa’s entire concentration. The average spectator wouldn’t notice the change in Sakusa’s behavior; if anything, they would think he was functioning at a higher level than he usually plays. His serves are stronger, his spikes are sharper, and his steps are quicker than any other player on the court. Fans rave on social media about how focused he is in the game, and the reporters scribble in their notebooks the pressing question for the post-game press conference: Why are you playing so well today? 

“I always play that well,” he mutters, his lie drowned out by the lively conversation around the booth in the corner of the restaurant. The Jackals had cinched an easy victory and Bokuto and Hinata dragged you from your box to get dinner with them. Sakusa sits at the edge of the booth, flanked by Atsumu, followed by Bokuto and Hinata. You sit at the other end, laughing at some dumb story being recounted. It made his forehead pound. “You just don’t notice.” 

“Yeah, right,” Atsumu snickers with another sip of beer. “Admit it, something’s pissing you off.” Maybe I do wanna see who you are under all that anti-social attitude. Your words linger in the back of his mind and fire him up again, unknowingly furrowing his eyebrows and incriminating him. “Yep. Knew it.” 

“Shut the hell up, Atsumu.” He hated that his normally-idiotic teammate was on the cusp of exposing the truth, not to mention the fact that he’d downed one too many soju bombs and was feeling pushier than usual. 

“Is it ‘cause they actually listened to you and showed up?”

“I told you to shut up,” he hisses through gritted teeth. You’re laughing so hard that tears are starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes. It’s the kind of laugh where no noise is actually leaving you and you’re fanning yourself with your hand. Gross. 

“Aww, look at little baby Omi-Omi, finally having a feeling over someone wanting to get to know him,” Atsumu gushes and Sakusa’s ears burn. He threatens his friend with an indescribable death to no avail. “I knew you had a heart under all that coldness!” 

Sakusa’s fist clenches around his glass and he realizes his mistake a split second before there’s a sharp crack! and sudden pain prickles in his palm. “Oh shit, man. I–” His teammate swears under his breath when drops of dark red and amber starts to trickle down Sakusa’s arm, staining the white napkin on his lap. He grinds his teeth down to keep from crying out, the whiskey in his shattered cup burning his raw skin. 

“What happened?” You’re by his side in an instant, your perfume flooding his senses in a way that makes him dizzy. “Jeez, Atsumu. What’d you do?” 

“Why are you blaming me? He’s the one who was holding the cup,” Atsumu says defensively and you shoot him a look. “Fine. I got him riled up and he did,” he gestures to the mess on the table, “that.” 

“Could one of you call your driver please? I think it’s time you three head back to your hotel,” you recommend calmly. 

“What about Sakusa?” Hinata asks as he climbs out from the booth, dragging an apologetic Atsumu and a very buzzed Bokuto toward the door. “He should probably get that checked out.”

“I know. I’ll stay with him,” you reassure him and, after a brief pause of thinking, the short spiker nods and heads for the exit. Sakusa is rigidly still, save for the involuntarily twitching of his injured fingers. “C’mon, let’s go,” you say, gently guiding him out of the booth and grabbing some unused napkins to catch the bleeding. He follows you wordlessly, a million thoughts stewing in his eyes that he refuses to verbalize. He knew he didn’t like you when you tried to read him after your show, but the alcohol in his system was making him despise you. 

You, sitting with him on the way to the nearest hospital. You, carefully looping the elastic bands of his mask over his face before leaving the car. You, politely declining a fan’s attempt to introduce themselves while you’re checking him in at the reception desk. You, listening intently to the doctor as she says that he’ll need stitches in his right hand and that they’ll need to pick every last particle of glass from his palm so that it doesn’t become infected. You, ignoring your vocal coach’s orders for a rest day and staying by his side from 11:00pm to 3:00am when the doctors finally finish his hand. 

He despises you and his pride becomes a gag in his mouth once you drop him off at the Jackals’ hotel, rendering him unable to choke out a simple ‘thank you’ as you continue to treat him with unending kindness. You’ll get hurt if you keep being nice, he thinks to himself, and the way you flinch like you’d been shot tells him he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. He hears you murmur Sleep well, Sakusa, as he shuts the door with his left hand and stalks away, lost in the trenches of his mind. 

—

“But, I’m not sure if it should be the A minor to keep with the chord progression or go to E to create some tension.” Your producer nods at you, his chin resting on his knuckles as you strum your latest song idea on your purple acoustic. It’d been a few days since your late-night trip to the emergency room with Sakusa, and you decided to spend a few hours in the studio before catching your flight to your next tour city. “And when I tried to do it on piano, I just wanted to change the key entirely.” He opens his mouth to speak but is abruptly cut off by three insistent raps on the doorframe of the control room.  

“You have a visitor,” your publicist informs you, peeking her head into the room with a slightly bewildered look in her eyes. “He says it’s urgent.” Your eyebrows dip but you stand anyways, walking through the halls of the recording space until you reach the lobby of the building and stop in your tracks. 

What the hell was he doing here?

“Hey,” Sakusa greets and you blink at him, like he was a figment of your imagination that would disappear if you ignored him. It’s impossible to ignore him, though, considering the outrageously large bundle of flowers cradled in his arm. He follows your eyeline, muttering, “I didn’t know which ones you liked, so I just…bought all of them.”

“I’ll, uh,” your publicist glances at you for a brief moment, giving you an unreadable look before gingerly taking the bouquet from the Olympian in the lobby. “I’ll take these and have them brought to your next hotel, okay?” She dismisses herself, leaving you alone with him. 

“Why are you here?”

“Are you busy right now?” You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed that he replied to your question with a question of his own. Since dropping him off at the team’s hotel, you’d come to peace with his hatred for you even though you’d tried to be nothing but cordial; maybe he could tell that you wanted to be friends for the publicity, you theorized. 

“I’m in a recording studio doing my job, so yeah,” you reply and allow all your suppressed attitude to rear its head. To your surprise, he doesn’t immediately fire back at you. If anything, Sakusa looked uneasy, nothing like the cold confidence you previously saw. “What do you want?”

“Do you have time for lunch?” 

“Oh, now you’re interested in my company,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. In the time following that night at the hospital, you hadn’t received any updates other than an unprompted photo of hungover Atsumu. “Unless you’re ready to apologize for how much of an asshole you’ve been, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I wanna start over,” he says as you turn your back on him to return to the studio. “One meal,” he proposes, “and if you want nothing to do with me after that, I’ll leave you alone.” You check the wall-mounted clock and make your decision. 

“You get two hours.” 

By the time you sneak through the back of a restaurant and sit down to eat, your stomach is turning itself inside out. You thumb through the menu eagerly, ignoring your present company until water glasses are set out and orders are taken. 

“Look,” you begin, peering at him in the dim light, “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“That makes two of us,” he agrees. “You go first.”

“Truth is, I didn’t go to the game to see you, or any of the Jackals, for that matter,” you admit. “I went to get the tabloids off my back and give them a different reason to talk. I didn’t mean to mess up whatever dynamic you guys had going, so for that I am sorry.” You can’t see much of Sakusa’s expression, but you can tell his eyes are on you by the way they shine like a cat’s. It was off-putting, but also drew you in like a black hole. “Is your hand doing okay?”

“It’s better now,” he replies. “Doc’ told me that if we’d left that glass in for longer, it would’ve been more serious.” You nod and take a drink from your water as an excuse not to respond, to see if he would go further. “I, uh,” he swallows thickly, steadying his nerves. “I’m sorry for being avoidant and just being a general asshole. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m…incredibly remorseful.” A puff of air leaves your nostrils in amusement and he can hear you smirk from across the small table. 

“I appreciate the apology, and the apology lunch. Wanna start over without our respective teams breathing down our necks? Friends?” You stick your open hand toward him and he shakes it without hesitation, sealing your deal. “Awesome.” 

“You said ‘tabloids.’ What do they say about you?” Your smile fades and for a moment, he thinks he’s pushed too far too soon. He’s on the brink of apologizing again when you exhale an unsteady breath. 

“The tame ones call me an industry plant,” you explain awkwardly. “The–uh–bolder ones call me a slut.” His nostrils flare and he’s glad there’s no glass in his hand again, otherwise he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t be shattered. “The big drama came from me leaving the producer who’d helped me start my career. The media got the wrong idea, said I’d slept my way into working with him, and left when I’d had my fill.” Sakusa slowly stretches his neck from side to side, willing the sudden tension in his body to relax as he starts to see red. “I hope you can see why I wanted to give them a different reason to talk.” It’s more of a struggle than he expected to keep his voice steady. 

“What actually happened? With the original producer?” You hum in lieu of answering, grateful to catch the approaching servers out of the corner of your eye. 

“I’ll tell you another time,” you dodge, giving him a smile that he can tell is off. “For now, can we eat? I’m so hungry I’m about to eat these silly little herbs in the centerpiece.” 

—

Sakusa stays in Tokyo longer than the rest of his teammates, who depart on the team jet for the next game. He says he wants to do a little more sightseeing, despite having an apartment in the most expensive highrise in the city and knowing the streets like the back of his hand. The truth was, he wasn’t ready to give up the…thing…he’d established with you. He fell into an odd sort of routine: saying goodnight over text, calling you in the morning and telling you what time he’s picking you up, choosing the best places that can shut down for the world’s biggest rockstar on a day’s notice. You were in town for three more days and ended up spending every waking moment of them with Sakusa. 

“You’re really good at dodging the cameras,” you remark over a shared cup of ice cream on your last day, digging your spoon past the numerous toppings you’d insisted on adding. “How do you do it?”

“It helps when I’m not surrounded by the three biggest noisemakers on the planet,” he deadpans and you giggle, a sound he was increasingly becoming fond of the more time he spent with you. “I’m pretty good at laying low. People don’t know where I am unless I want them to know.” 

“Everyone seems to know where I am before even I know,” you frown. “I envy you; I really do.”

“I don’t,” he shrugs.

“Why not?” 

“When you’re trying so hard to avoid people, they tend to stop looking for you. Makes my job easier.” Your lips part in an oh of understanding. “But, I guess you’re here, so either you truly care about my wellbeing or you’re clinically insane.” You burst out laughing, so much so that you snort and have to cover your mouth with a napkin. “My running theory is that it’s a mix of both,” he declares with a rare upturn at the corner of his mouth. 

“Oh, shit,” you mutter once you’ve caught your breath and checked the time on your phone. “I should go. My plane leaves soon and my manager’ll kill me if I’m late. She’s already iffy about me staying in Tokyo this long.”

“What’s your next city?” 

“Madrid. I’m starting the European leg,” you reply while you pack up your things. He stands, walking you to the door of your waiting car. His eyes instinctively scan the surroundings street for cameras, and he subtly positions his body to block you from any passing eyes as you climb into the car. The window makes a humming noise as you roll it down. 

“Have a safe flight.” 

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah? I’ll miss you, even if you don’t want me to.” He memorizes the way the afternoon sunlight catches in your eyes, how each thump of his heartbeat seems louder when you’re near. Something is wrong in my brain, he thinks to himself. Once he’s completely sure your car isn’t being tailed, he dials Atsumu on the drive to the hotel to collect the rest of his things.

“You land already, Miya?” His car purrs beneath his fingertips as he speeds through the busy streets. 

“Safe and sound,” his teammate confirms. “Though jet lag is starting to hit Shoyo and Bo. How were the rest of your dates?” 

“They weren’t dates,” he argues, his hands unconsciously gripping the wheel tighter in indignance. “I was just thanking them for that night.” 

“Yeah, and a bit more than that, I figure.” 

“I don’t even know why I bothered calling you,” he groans.

“Because you want me to say ‘I told you so,’ right? That it was a good idea for me to bring you to that show. You know, a trip to that conveyor belt sushi place will suffice as repayment.”

“In your dreams, Atsumu,” Sakusa deadpans. 

“C’mon, Omi. I know you wouldn’t keep spending time with them if you didn’t feel some kind of tug.” 

“Tug?”

“Like you’re drawn to them,” Atsumu gushes and Sakusa feels like gagging. “Intimately.” Sakusa definitely didn’t think of you that way…right?

“You’re such a pervert.” His disgust is clear, and his speakers blow out with Atsumu’s screams of Not like that! and You don’t even pull enough for me to make fun of! “I’m at the hotel now so I’m gonna hang up. Not sure again why I even bother talking to you.”

“Because I’m your best friend,” Atsumu answers. “See you soon, my sweet Omi~” 

“Remind me to punch you when I touch down.”

—

“How was the show a few nights ago?” 

“Amazing, as always. Almost fell on my ass running around to meet people at the barricade, but thankfully kept my balance,” you chuckle, running the pad of your thumb over the petal of a purple gladiolus. “You can probably see a clip of it on all the fan pages.”

“You think I follow fan pages about you?” 

“What? I follow fan pages about you,” you insist. “User ‘omi-omisbigtits’ has some pretty funny posts of you.” Sakusa groans from the other end of the line.

“That’s the one fan account I have blocked because they post such heinous things,” he recalls. “Did you scroll far enough to see the one where I’m at the zoo and–”

“You’re running away from the peacock, yep,” you finish. Out of the various presents and letters your fans gifted you, you find yourself drawn again and again to the pot of sword lilies. “I screenshotted it and made it your contact photo.”

“I’m never sending you flowers again,” he mutters, but you hear it, snapping your head upwards. 

“These were you?” Your jaw drops so forcefully that it aches. “You’re the mystery flower sender? No one would tell me who sent these!” 

“Because I told them I’d sue if you found out it was me,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes, a grin creeping onto your face. 

“Why’d you want to send them anonymously?” Upon inspecting the color further, you realize where you’ve seen the shade before. 

He’d sent you flowers that matched your favorite guitar. 

“I didn’t wanna distract you before your shows. I was aiming for subtlety.” You blink in disbelief. Sakusa had sent you flowers the night before you started your show run in Paris, knowing you would be at the venue for soundcheck. Maybe he did care about you and your career.

“Well, you failed,” you state, staring at the large bundle of purple taking up half the space on your dressing room’s side table. “This bouquet is the opposite of subtle.”

“Bouquet? I ordered you one stem.”

“No,” you restated. Even though you’d never video called Sakusa before, you switch on your phone’s camera anyway to show him the absolutely gargantuan amount of flowers he mistakenly sent you. “You ordered this.” To your surprise, he turns on his camera as well. His face contorts into such a shocked and puzzled expression that you snort out the water you were sipping, burning your nostrils as tears prickle your eyes. “Stop looking like that, I can’t breathe!”

“What do you mean, ‘stop looking like that?’ I didn’t mean to send you the whole rainforest!” You choke out another uncontrollable laugh, turning the camera to face yourself and setting it in front of your vanity mirror. “Alright, at least you got them.” 

“Yes, and I really appreciate you sending them.” You can tell he’s not used to having his camera on, as he keeps tilting the phone at odd angles and barely showing his face half the time. “What’re you doing right now?”

“Just in bed.” Or a snowstorm, from the looks of it. 

“Why does it look like your poor phone is in a typhoon?” 

“You’re literally so annoying,” he grumbles, reluctantly positioning himself so that he’s sitting against the headboard. With the new point of view, you also notice very quickly that he…is completely shirtless. “Better?”

“Yep, yeah. That’s fine,” you force out, clearing your throat aggressively while the image of his very broad shoulders assault your brain. “Sorry that I didn’t send you flowers for your game.” 

“The guys would give me shit about it if you do, so I’m glad you did not,” he replies. “Though, it does suck not having you around.” 

“This is the closest I’m ever getting to you saying you miss me. I should commemorate it with a plaque.” Sakusa clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile. He must’ve taken a shower recently; his curls look slightly wet and dangle haphazardly across his eyes. You have the sudden urge to run your fingers through it, and then the even more sudden urge to slap yourself for thinking in such a way. 

“What city are you in now? I know you just finished up Dublin.” His voice snaps you out of your daydreaming. 

“Paris,” you manage to reply without too awkward of a pause. “You?”

“Paris.” 

“Huh? I thought your next game was in Brazil,” you ask. His face goes still for a moment and you figure it’s probably frozen from bad service, wherever he is. “Hello?”

“Sorry, you broke up for a second. What were you saying?”

“I was asking why you were in Paris.”

“I’m not in Paris,” he states. “I’m in Seoul.” 

“Isn’t your next game in Brazil?” He pauses for an almost imperceptible amount of time.

“Game schedule got rearranged. We’re in Seoul, then the States, then Brazil.” 

“Oh. I see.” A loud series of knocking on your dressing room door makes you jump. “Ah, I’m sorry. I need to go.” 

“Rockstar duties?”

“You know it,” you yawn, taking one last indulgent look at the exposed muscle on his shoulders. “Hopefully we both get some rest for the coming days.”

“Yep. G’night.” 

—

There was a little bit of lingering guilt on his end after you hang up; the fact that he’d lied to you about his whereabouts didn’t escape him. 

He wasn’t sure what came over him, what sentimental demon temporarily possessed him to take a plane to wherever you were (Paris, not the lie that he gaslit you into believing) and buy a last minute ticket to your show. His emotions and desires were thrown completely off balance; he truly didn’t care if he was up in the nosebleeds if it meant he got to see you. Thankfully, a wealthy couple had bought out an entire area of club seats for their granddaughter’s birthday, but decided last minute that they wanted to fly to Cancun. It made him a little anxious, having all that space to himself, but he figured he could have his guards and team invite family to make it a little less lonely. It didn’t matter how many strangers he needed to meet or how much he had to spend. 

He just wanted to see you. 

He finds himself in a familiar position from the first time he went to one of your shows, rooted under the awning of the expansive lounge area and just out of sight from fans. His arms unconsciously cross over his chest and the beads of the bracelet he’d dug through his luggage to find presses against his skin. But, this time, he isn’t annoyed by the pain; if anything, it reminds him that he’s actually here with you, even if you don’t know it yet. 

I’m pretty good at laying low. People don’t know where I am unless I want them to know. His words echo back to him and he makes his decision, stepping out into the stadium lights and resting his forearms on the railing. 

He wants you to know he’s there. 

The first fan to notice is a girl in purple, slapping her friend furiously until they both are gawking at him. One pair of eyes becomes two, which becomes five, which becomes twenty, until hundreds of phone cameras are pointed at him and snapping photos. The sentimental demon possesses him again and he sticks up an involuntary peace sign, even going so far as to smile to look less bored. They scream for him and he thinks the sentimental demon is Atsumu, because he finds himself imitating his teammate’s movements. His hands clap together and he gestures for fans to toss him bracelets, which become an impossible shower as dozens are thrown at once. By the time the lights dim and news of his presence is trending across the continent, his arms are covered in sleeves of rainbow beads. 

— 

The ache in your feet is immediately replaced by adrenaline when your head of security informs you who came to the show. You don’t bother waiting for the golf cart to bring you to the back of the stadium and take off sprinting, chunky heels and all. They’re calling after you to hold on to let the rest of your team catch up, but you don’t listen. The stadium staff look at you fondly but also have a reasonably startled reaction to you running like you’d escaped from an asylum. 

You round the corner absolutely heaving and his face breaks into a wide smile. You’d never seen him look like that before, never at his games or during any of the time you’d spent together. It was an expression reserved for only you in this moment. You don’t remember if he catches you or if you embrace him first, but soon enough your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut and grinning like a lunatic. His arms are rock solid around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer until you can hear his heartbeat slamming against his ribcage. Neither of you speak for a few minutes because you don’t feel the need to; only when you pull away to hold his face with your hands do you manage to articulate words. 

“You’re here,” you breathe. “You’re actually here.” Recognition blinks onto your face and you suddenly frown, lightheartedly slapping his shoulder, saying, “You lied! Your dumb ass said you were in Seoul!” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he concludes unapologetically. “I did slip up with my story a few times, though.”

“Yeah, you got your own game schedule wrong.” 

“To be fair, some games did get rescheduled, which is why I’m able to be here. Our next game’s in Seoul, which is why I blanked and said that instead,” he explains and you respond with an exasperated eyeroll. “Find it in your heart to forgive me?” 

“I see right through you, Sakusa Kiyoomi. You don’t…uhm…” He comes close enough that you can count his eyelashes and it takes you a few seconds to recompose yourself. “Mmm, you wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid,” you challenge and hope he doesn’t hear the butterflies going wild in your stomach. 

“Maybe I do,” he smirks and it only makes the situation more sweat-inducing. “I missed you, after all.” Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in but instantly shoot back open, gently pushing him away as he pouts. “What is it?”

“Take me out to dinner, first. If you apologize sufficiently for being a terrible liar, maybe you’ll get a kiss,” you propose and he’s already lacing his fingers in yours. 

“Good thing I love a challenge.” 

— 

In spite of his attempts to ignore the cameras and the footsteps that were always a few feet behind him, there was a pit in his stomach every time Sakusa was in public with you. He couldn’t figure out why he was so irked, but the feeling made it difficult to enjoy how you smiled at him in quiet moments and pointed out things he’d never think to notice before. Most perplexingly, you didn’t seem bothered at all by the cameras. It was like they disappeared as soon as he came into your proximity; you barely spared them a glance in favor of beaming up at him. 

Even though you agreed that there was a feeling more than platonic between you two, he hadn’t mustered up the urge to kiss you properly, opting for your forehead or your hands instead. It didn’t seem to bother you, the way he only reserved showing his affection when you were out of view. But, he slips up the night before you have to part ways, him for his next game and you for your final European date. The dread he’d experienced for days felt like intuition telling him something was inherently wrong, like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff he didn’t know the height of. 

It comes crashing down when the tabloids catch him holding your hand.

“Can you believe this?” You snort, showing Sakusa the headline as he forces down the bile in his throat. “They think you’re my next ‘big catch,’ like you’re a fish or something,” you chuckle obliviously, leaning into him on the living room couch of his hotel suite. He manages a pained mhmm and watches as you continue to scroll through the news site, the photos of him holding your hand and grabbing your waist flying by like a nightmarish film reel. He rubs his palms back and forth over the fabric of his sweats, feeling suddenly feverish from every single point where your body was touching his. Clearing his throat, he swallows thickly and you finally look at him, concern pinching in your eyebrows. Your voice is gentle and you reach up to feel his forehead; he dodges your hand and you carefully hide your disappointment. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“We can’t do this.” His heart sinks as you sit up and blink at him, his words registering slowly in your mind. “I can’t…I can’t do this with you,” he sputters out. You exhale a single time and he watches your eyes flick from side to side, your brain running a thousand miles a minute.

“I don’t understand.”

“We need to stop.” You laugh forcefully, like you were commanding your body to feel lighter. 

“If this is a joke, Kiyoomi, it isn’t funny–”

“It’s not a fucking joke; you need to stop being with me,” he snaps and the room falls silent. The only thing he can hear is his heartbeat rushing through his ears, his face hotter than the sun. 

“Why?” Your voice breaks and so does something in him, his jaw clenching unconsciously. 

“You need to stop being nice to me,” he says through gritted teeth, “because I can’t guarantee I’ll be nice back.” This is how it always ends. Push them away before things get messy. This is how it works for Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

“But you have been nice,” you fight back, your grief morphing into unfiltered rage as you stand and scream at him. “You sent me flowers. You bought me dinner. You flew across the world to see my fucking show!” 

“That doesn’t matter. None of it mattered.” His composure wavers momentarily, unreadable emotions flashing across his face. “You can’t be close to me without getting hurt.” He gestures to your phone, the paparazzi image of you two together brighter than a Times Square billboard. 

“Who said it needed to be that way?” 

“Everyone did!” He stands without warning and you flinch backward, stumbling against the coffee table. “People think I’m an asshole, so that’s how I choose to stay. At the very least, I can predict things and prevent people from getting too close. You’re too close.”

“But you’re not an asshole. You’ve shown me that much,” you insist, arguing with his back as he starts to retreat into the master suite. What you say next makes him freeze, trapped in an endless time loop with you. 

Tell me you care for your friends. 

“What?” He’s seething as he turns, meeting your eyes. “What the fuck do you mean, do I–”

“Do you care about your friends?” You repeat, stepping closer to him. His eyes are burning, molten to the core even when you refuse to shrink away. “If Bo, Shoyo, and Atsumu were dying in a fucking fire, would you save them?”

“Of course I would,” he spits indignantly. “What kind of–”

“Then you have the capacity to love, Kiyoomi, as much as you don’t want to admit it.” You’re crying, tears streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks. Why are you crying? He never wanted to make you cry. What did he do to make you cry? 

“Because the last time you loved something, people scorned you.” They told him his passion was suffocating. They told him he was walking a path that one could only walk alone. He’s frozen, his feet left immobile on the hotel carpet. He makes no sound beside shaking exhales and can sense nothing but your voice coming closer.  

“You made it your career to prove that it’s worthy of your love…but you forgot how to love anything else.” Time slows. He doesn’t remember when your face appeared so close to his. He can see a universe behind your eyes and he wants nothing more than to hold you and call you his. His passion was suffocating. It would hurt you. It would burn you. It would–

“I wish you could love yourself as much as I love you.” 

One breath, and then another. 

A crack in an eggshell. A hole in a fortress. 

You are an asteroid completely obliterating the planet he considered himself. 

And when he finally kisses you properly, he understands just how freeing being destroyed could be. 

—

Sakusa Kiyoomi did not like cameras. They were gnats buzzing around his head, calling for him to look this way and that, catching his every reaction to whatever crossed his path. They were broken whispers that floated to his ears, unintelligible conversations that stayed as voices in his head. He did not like cameras, but he found that looking at you was infinitely better than looking at anything else. 

“You doing okay?” Your murmur is the only thing he hears, quieting the rest of the chatter around him. Swaths of dresses and suits brush against his arms and he fights the instinct to shield you from view, despite being sat in the very center of the huge theater. It was the biggest award show of the season, and he’d made a vow with himself that he wouldn’t ruin tonight for you. With your hand in his, as long as he had physical contact with you, it was easier to keep the doubts in his mind at bay. “I’m feeling fine, if that’s what you need to know.” 

“I’m doing okay as long as you’re okay,” he confirms softly, barely sparing a glance at the giant lens a few feet from his face. “I’m here to celebrate you. I won’t let them bother me tonight.” You beam at him, opening your mouth to say something when a commotion comes tumbling down the aisle. “Actually,” he mutters as his three teammates trip over themselves to find their seats in the rest of the row, “Do you think I can have one nasty scowl? I promise I’ll behave otherwise.” 

“Having a rockstar best friend is like, the best thing ever,” Bokuto declares before you can respond to Kiyoomi. 

“I’m so glad Omi finally got his head out of his ass, too,” Atsumu drawls with an unbothered yawn that makes Sakusa’s blood boil. The blonde Miya sibling had been very vocal with the press about playing as the matchmaker, pointedly dodging questions about his own romantic status. “I think I’ll secretly have ‘I told you so’ engraved on the inside of your wedding rings.”

“Over my dead body,” Kiyoomi grumbles and you smile, squeezing his hand once. He squeezes back, pressing a rare public kiss to the side of your head. You shift your body to lean more closely to his and your wrist presses down on something wrapped around his wrist. 

“What’s under your sleeve?”

“Hmm? Oh, this?” He pulls back the freshly ironed fabric to reveal a familiar pattern of green and yellow beads, out of place compared to the rest of his formal attire. “Got it from a concert,” he smirks knowingly. “The show was cool, but I think I’m in love with the artist.”

“Yeah? You never figured out what that acronym stands for, did you?” He shakes his head and you point at each letter bead, explaining, “No one knows me like you do, and no one ever will.” 

“Well, isn’t that fitting?” The lights dim and the orchestra starts to play its signature fanfare, spotlights gliding in aimless directions across the audience. “Thank you for helping me understand.”

“The meaning of the lyric? Of course, I think of you every time I sing it, now,” you smile. 

“No, about what you said that night when we argued.” He feels a familiar blush creeping up his cheeks. “About loving me how you love me.”

“And do you get it now?”

“I do,” he nods, glancing at the colorful bracelet on his wrist and your fingers intertwined with his. “I just needed a little bit of convincing.” Your head settles on his shoulder and he lets you, allowing himself to relax in spite of the sea of cameras surrounding him. 

“Good thing I love a challenge.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[almostfoxglove]

hey queen do you have any joel fic recs? can be au or canon long or short im just desperate for some joel fics lol

oh ho HO anon HELLO yes of course I do :,) I'll give you a variety of flavors so you've got some options. thank you so much for the opportunity to gush about some fics I love :,) these are in no particular order and I am 100% gonna miss brilliant ones because I have a terrible memory I'm so sorry

okay, let's start with SERIES!

I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive by Kiwicane on ao3 (ongoing series)

universe: canon universe, jackson!joel

flavor: ANGST holy fuck. also, incredible action sequences? like actually jaw dropping. and some... enemies to lovers? that's all I'll say!!!!

I actually cannot overstate how much this fic has me pinned to the fucking ground literally anytime I get a notification it's updated on ao3 I fucking RUN okay I run. it's so fucking good. THE TWISTS AND TURNS? you're not ready (you are please read it, it deserves so much fucking love)

Futureproof by @luxurychristmaspudding on tumblr (ongoing series)

universe: modern!au, actor!joel

flavor: girldad!famous joel starstruck by badass rockstar reader? yes I'll take 20.

the prologue for this just came out and FUCK I'm hooked. seriously, just buckle in. the vibes are immaculate, the world building's insane, and joel gets BOTH THIS DAUGHTERS??? I could cry.

Maintenance Request by @burntheedges on tumblr & ao3 (series complete)

universe: modern!au, hotconstructionguy!joel

flavor: fluff & FILTH just... trust me on this one. giddy rom-com feelings and absolute filth. but filth with love. AH

I literally rec this fic to anyone who gives me 0.2 seconds to talk about joel listen it's just. chef's kiss. the rom-com of my dreams.

Halcyon by @justagalwhowrites on tumblr & ao3 (ongoing series)

universe: modern!au, girldad!joel

flavor: childhood best-friends to lovers and s l o w b u r n PINING. so much fucking pining (my kryptonite)

this fic actually broke my brain I think. it is at once so sweet and tender and fucking heart wrenching. strap in for a slowburn but WOOF it's so worth it.

take me back to eden by skyspacelunar on ao3 (series complete)

universe: canon universe post-outbreak, smuggler/pre-jackson!joel

flavor: ANGST, enemies to lovers, TEARS

listen. listen. don't let the OC tag spook you away, this is so fucking good. delicious forced proximity, hate sex, then HEART EYES. there's violence, action, spice, LOVE, and goddamn tragedy. do it!

now... ONE SHOTS!

looking for the light by @sixhours on tumblr & ao3

universe: pre-outbreak!, brandnewdad!joel

flavor: angst with a happy ending, tiny baby 23 year old joel being a newly single dad to baby sarah

okay don't let the word count fool you, this one fuckin WRECKED ME (and put me back together? oh my god) my heart. I wanna hug him so fuckin bad. READ IT AND WEEP (but not in a vengeful way, in an angsty way)

until then by @studioghibelli on tumblr

universe: no-outbreak, priest!joel

flavor: ANGST angst angst. if you like fleabag.... wink!

bell wrote this for my angst challenge and it fuckin ruined me. ha ha HA it's so good. holy fuck. get ready for tears

hungry, lonely, violent by @dontloooknow on tumblr & ao3

universe: canon universe post-outbreak, jackson!joel

flavor: angst and fluff and smut. you get it all!

this is a BEEFY one shot (22k hell yeah) that has pretty much all you could ask for from sweet ol jackson!joel. the tenderness in this? off the charts. I do need him! biblically!

this has made me realize I need to read more joel one shots... oof! time to get through my tbr.

aaand I'm guessin since you're sending this you may already know about my joel fics, but just in case, I've got 3 ongoing series (one almost complete!) & 1 one shot

cover me up: jackson!joel (angst and smut and tenderness)

see you at three: no-outbreak au, young!joel (rom-comish, fluff and angst and eventual smut)

lock the gate: bostonqz!joel (angst, bitter allies to lovers, eventual smut)

I also have a bookshelf on my blog with shelves divided by characters, so you can also check out the joel miller shelf there (will include fics on my tbr list as well as ones I've read) this was so much fun. sorry it's long, but I hope you enjoy these!!

xx freya

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: Wormdebut! Wormdebut has published 18 fics on AO3 all in the steddie tag!

@thefreakandthehair recommends the following works by @wormdebut:

Tell Eddie He Looks Sexy With His Hair Pushed Back

Kiss Your Knuckles (Before You Punch Me In The Face)

Hell Bent For Leather

All You Have Is Your Fire

It Feels Like Fourteen Carats But No Clarity (When I Look At The Man Who Would Be King)

Worm is incredible! For a humble worm, they sure know how to write fanfiction. ;) But seriously, Worm has a way of exploring different dynamics in such depth with an immense amount of care that's so obvious in the finish products! -- @thefreakandthehair

Below the cut, Wormdebut answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

These two idiots inspire me. I mean look at them. I think the thing I love about Steve and Eddie is that to me they are destined to be together. Post-Canon, Alternate Universe. It doesn’t matter. They are meant to be together in any scenario. I could and will write about these two forever.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Rockstar Eddie, baby. I love some good sex, drugs and rock and roll.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Is safe (mostly)sane and consensual BDSM a trope? I like to write that. 😂

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Tuesday’s Gone With The Wind - Thisapplepielife there is nothing quite like reading this for the first time. I truly thought I was going to explode as it was being updated.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Omegaverse! I have a fic in the worm vault that will come out eventually. Wormegaverse. It’s coming. I’m fucking stoked for it.

What is your writing process like?

Hoooboy. It’s a mess. I cannot write an outline to save my life. (I’m looking at you King of Hell Eddie fic. I know you need an outline okay?) I tend to write in order, but if I get stuck I will skip a scene or two ahead so I can figure out how to squish two pieces of a story together OR I will write little notes about my intentions and skip it and come back. (My favorite note of all time is when I wrote “spit kink shit.” So I could remember my very pure intentions)

Do you have any writing quirks?

Boy do I! I tend to go into like writing fugue states where I will just bust out thousands of words in a sitting and if I am not doing that I am thinking and over thinking about when im gonna fugue out again. I also get really stressed when it actually comes time to write a sex scene? Weird, I know. But every single one is super important to me and I want to make sure they read well. My friends can attest that I am an absolute basket case when it comes to me writing Steve and Eddie getting down and dirty.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

God when I’m done. I am NOT great at posting chaptered fics but I am trying to get better with it? I prefer writing larger pieces though. I am an over-thinker to a fault and for some reason I stress less with one-shots.

Which fic are you most proud of?

It’s gotta be Kiss Your Knuckles. That fic is everything to me. But my Boys Who Kiss series is also so fucking important to me. Those two have so much more to tell y’all and I can’t wait to share their lives with you. I’m a musician so any of my fics that are heavily laced with performance and song are very special.

How did you get the idea for Kiss Your Knuckles (Before You Punch Me In The Face)?

I remember listening to Twin Size Mattress one day and I was like—Holy Shit, this is so Steddie-Coded it hurts. And it’s post-canon AND Rockstar Eddie? Incredible. The words just screamed Eddie Behavior and I knew Steve had to write a one-hit wonder about how he felt.

When writing Kiss Your Knuckles (Before You Punch Me In The Face), what was something you didn’t expect?

Oh I sobbed when I finished it. I couldn’t believe that I had actually finished it. It truly means the world to me and I wanted to share it with you all so badly. I cried for like an hour.

What inspired It Feels Like Fourteen Carats But No Clarity (When I Look At The Man Who Would Be King)?

Honestly? Tumblr user @ghosttotheparty had made a post about the scenario that Fourteen Carats is about and I messaged them and was like hey listen I want to take a shot at this, if that’s okay. Fourteen Carats is the first fully formed fic that I have ever posted aside from tumblr Drabbles and while I personally don’t love it I keep it up just in case someone somewhere does. 😂

What was your favorite part to write from All You Have Is Your Fire?

OH. Absolutely just eluding to Tattoo Legend and Icon, Jim Hopper. God he so fucking hot neat.

How do/did you feel writing Tell Eddie He Looks Sexy With His Hair Pushed Back?

I felt some type of a way, clearly. I think this is my favorite Eddie that I have ever written (My favorite Steve is Kiss Your Knuckles Steve) and he just kept getting more and more interesting. Like who the hell fucks you and speaks French while they do it? Tell Eddie Eddie does. And thank god for that guy.

What was the most difficult part of writing Hellbent For Leather?

Writing sub/bottom Eddie! I did this fic as a gift for tumblr user @gorgeousgreymatter-x (love you bitch) and it was hard because I don’t often write that dynamic, but god damn I loved these two Steddies.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

Ah— “It is, and I do.” Something about French chef Eddie, really—yeah. I am proud of everything I have written but if I can be honest with you I rarely remember what I have done. I often joke that it’s simply Steve and Eddie in my brain just writing what they want, because people will quote my work or talk to me about a scene and I’m like—‘I wrote that?? Nice.’

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

WELL. Once I can break myself out of this accidental hiatus I am so excited to share more of For Your Entertainment with yall. I am also so fucking excited to share King Of Hell Eddie with the world. I can’t fucking wait. I am working on a ‘Came Back Wrong’ fic that is less scary and more comedic and I am stoked for that. I have quite a few things that are happening and I am just so fucking excited to share them all with you. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just thank you. Thank you for reading and thanks for letting me be a part of all of this. I have not felt this inspired and loved in a long fucking time and I’m not going anywhere so I hope yall will stick around for the wild ride. Fucking love you.

Thank you to our author, Wormdebut, and our nominator, @thefreakandthehair! See more of Wormdebut's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[cevansbrat0007]

Hi Britt!

I enjoyed your latest update on Bird and Ari and I love it!!! I'll leave the comments under the fic but this comes to mind first so I have to get it out:

I've recently watched a tiktok video of women pranking their men by sticking a sausage between the zipper of their men's pants (while the men were asleep, of course, or this would have caught their attention) and wake their men up -- and immediately cut the sausage half with a scissor.

The REACTION. Holy .... I'm literally shaking rn just because how HUGE the response was when the men thought their junk was being cut off. Like a cat meeting a cucumber, is perhaps the most appropriate comparison.

Anywho, I wonder if Bird would land such a huge fright on Ari, since she's bold to slam car doors and getting into the world of tiktok prank lol

So I just went and watched some of these. And my, oh my. Some of these people pulling this prank are brave AS HELL.

Do you know how fast our girl would have to run if she were to do this? Like, she would need to mentally and physically prepare first. The entire thing would involve liberal stretching, followed by lacing up her tennis shoes.

Because, if she were to do this, she would have to RUN, and run FAST, to right to her pre-established hiding spot. And if she's smart she'd already have a few snacks and a couple bottles of water waiting for her.

Just in case she's stuck there for a while. Not quite sure how long it might take for Ari to calm down, let alone see the humor in what he just experienced.

Debating turning this into a drabble, because bratty Bird and grumpy Ari are really fun to write.

Thanks!

[123puppy]

(Im)proper Meeting Part 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Angel Dust, Lucifer Morningstar

Lee!Lucifer Ler!Angel Dust

Note: Now it makes sense to add tickling.

Update 2/17/24: I might add/fix this up at some point. I always was impatient writing these particular parts because I like to get to the fun parts. I'll try to keep in as much as possible, I just need to 'polish' some of it so I can stop thinking about this like I made a mess of a fic XD

---

Lucifer felt very comfortable this morning. Not that he's not ever comfortable, but his pillows are extra soft today and he slept through the night without waking up and possibly never going to sleep from restlessness or nightmares. Maybe both.

He did not wake up, once.

And he didn't want to start now, nuzzling his cheek into the pillow and smacking his lips.

A sharp intake of breath makes him freeze. Since when can his pillow breathe? He forces his eyes open and is greeted by white instead of red. He doesn't have a white pillow.

Lucifer reluctantly detaches his face from the fluffy white cushion to get a better look at what he's holding.

"Mornin', cutie" Angel mewls.

Who in hell's name is this!? How did this sinner end up in his bed!??? Did they-?

"WhaaaAHHH! WHO ARE YOU WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, IN MY BED? OH MY GOD WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING DID WE? HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY S-Mmph!"

One hand is placed over Lucifer's mouth while the lower set of hands cup his rosey cheeks, guiding his face towards Angel, eyes blown wide in his panic

"Deep breaths, doll." Angel's breaths are exaggerated as he stares into the smaller man's eyes. Lucifer follows his breathing, and though it took a few minutes, he began to settle down. His body is still suffering the aftershocks, frame trembling as he continues to stare at Angel Dust with severe unease.

"First things first, we didn't fuck so you can rest easy," THAT got Lucifer to breathe properly and sag all the way down on the bed like a puddle. Angel snickers, "Second, you can be pretty convincing to get someone into bed with you just by being adorable. Very cuddlebug material."

Lucifer covers his face in shame, ears flushed. " I am so sorry, I shouldn't have forced you like that, I never sh-ack! Hehey!" The shorter male yelps as his side gets a sharp poke, immediately throwing his hands down to shove the appendage away.

Angel noticed the reaction but needed to focus on important matters."Ya' didn't do no such thing. I jus' couldn' say no to a precious face like this~" He grasps Lucifer's cheeks and squeezes them. The blush returns full force and the man squirms in his hold. "And I got to sleep in the most comfortable bed with the softest sheets to boot, so it's a win-win on both parties, baby!"

Lucifer grumbles and Angel can see the remnants of sadness from last night shimmer in his eyes. The Porn Star frowns, then remembers what he did earlier and grins.

"Ya know, I can't help but notice how jumpy you were when I got you on ya' side." He sees the panic in the King's eyes and his grin widens.

"Y-You startled me is all!" Lucifer pulls away from Angel's hands. He doesn't look the sinner in the eyes, fidgeting. "I...," He swallows, "... haven't been in physical contact in a long time. I mean, uh... I-I..." He mumbles and Angel leans forward.

"What's that?"

Lucifer goes red again. He just can't stop blushing today! "I'm sensitive okay? Its been so long, I'm not used to touch."

Angel looks at Lucifer with a soft smile. "Well, maybe I can help with that."

Lucifer's eyes widen. "I-I don't think that's necessary."

"Not what you're thinkin', hun." Angel chuckles, edging closer to the nervous fallen angel. His smile turns mischievous. "This is 100% vanilla."

"What do you me-" Angel's top set of hands scuttle along Lucifer's sides. "Wait waitwaitwaitwaitwaihahahait!"

"Ohhh so the King of Hell is ticklish." Angel creeps his nails up higher and pokes at each individual rib, causing the shorter male to curl forward, trying to cover himself. "Ah ah ahhh," Angel's bottom set of hands find their way to Lucifer's exposed hips and presses the pads of his thumbs against the soft thin skin. The shrill laughter that comes out is almost enough to stop the assault as Lucifer jerks at the sensation, bucking and thrashing on the sheets.

"Ohohoho my gAHahahahahad nohohohoho I cahahan't!"

"Already tappin' out?" Angel lightens his touch and brings out his third set of arms. He uses his top set to grab Lucifer's flailing arms and presses them above his head. The middle set of arms gently drag up his sides, pushing up Lucifer's shirt. The shorter male seized at the feather light touch to his sensitive skin and squeaks with each nail that drew patterns at the sides of his tummy.

"Dohohon't!" He wiggles around and cries out when Angel teases his belly button, drawing circles around it. "STAHAHAP!" He squeaks out, unable to keep the desperation from his voice, cheeks pink and eyes popping wide open.

"Don't stop?" Angel cooes, "So you like it when I dooo this?"

A shriek emits from Lucifer when Angel plunges his finger in his navel, wiggling rapidly. Pin prick tears appear at the corners of Lucifer's eyes, back arched as he kicks a pillow across the room. "NO!" He did not like that, he wanted to yell that out too to get his point across but squeaky laughter is all he can muster as he bucks and kicks about.

"Okay, okay I'll go back to this then." The wiggling stops and Lucifer drops on the mattress with a whine "That betta'?" The smugness in his tone has Lucifer thinking about setting the archnid on fire if he had enough mind to concentrate without that damn finger sending him into panicked fits of giggles.

"NohohoHOHO!" The King cries out.

"You gotta make up ya' mind," Lucifer hiccups before a shriek comes out when Angel wiggles his finger again.

It felt like an eternity to Lucifer before his laughter goes silent. That's when Angel slows his assault, removing his finger from the bright pink area all around Lucifer's navel, pretty much petting Lucifer's belly. Which is miles better than what he endured a moment ago.

He doesn't know how long it's been but he's not going to complain getting free belly rubs. He should tell the sinner to stop and leave his room this instant, but his tongue proceeds to poke out between his upturned lips in a form of contentment. He was a weak man to receiving affection.

"Holy shit," The Porn Star places a hand over his mouth, unable to contain the starstruck look on his face at the King of Hell practically melting under his touch. He's released Lucifer's arm a while ago, but the smaller man never moved them from where they've been pinned. He's practically stretched out, welcoming every bit of attention he got. It isn't long until a strange rumbling sound draws Angel's attention. He felt it, in the King's chest where one of his hands lay. It could be him just hearing things but his fingers are vibrating where they rest. He is! The King is... purring!?!?

Angel stops altogether, stunned as Lucifer's stirs from his trance, face pink from exertion, hair stuck out in all directions from tossing and turning in his laughter induced state.

Lucifer peels his eyes open and tries to glare at the Spider Demon, but he's too relaxed to work his best growl that comes out to be a whine.

Angel snickers, "Is that your way of asking for more, shortcakes?"

"..."

"Oh my God, you're too precious-"

"Shut. Up."

[hoffmannwrites]

You Better You Bet

Previous - PART TWELVE - Next - Masterlist

Author’s Note: Holy shit y'all. It's been a hot minute, huh? I have spent a lot of time thinking about finishing this fic and I just simply must be done with this. I've got a few more chapters coming your way, and then I must bid au revoir to YBYB. It's just been so long. I love you guys so much and thanks for sticking around.

Pairing: Riverdale, FP Jones, and 19-Year-Old Reader

Description: A bet with Jughead leads to so much more than winning.

Warning: Language, Adult themes, Age Gap,

Song Inspiration: Everybody (Backstreet's Back) - Backstreet Boys (Get it?)

By the time Thursday came around, you were doubting everything. Your mind changed every five minutes. You shouldn’t tell Jug. You should have told Jug from the beginning. Well, better late than never, right? You shouldn’t even be with FP. You should be with FP and not tell Jug outright, but not hide it either. Your head cycled through every possibility all day long. You barely accomplished anything other than going through the daily motions, as you were too preoccupied with worrying over how tonight was going to go. No matter how anxiety ridden you were, you never texted FP. For one thing, you didn’t want to freak him out. He was probably already worried and didn’t need your freak out on top of his. But more than that, you trusted him. You knew this was important to him and the right thing to do overall, so you let him take the reigns. It was comforting to know that whatever ended up happening, at least you and FP would have to deal with it together.

You weren’t sure when Jug was heading over to the trailer, so you sent a text to FP after you got out of school simply asking him to keep you updated. He texted back quickly saying Jug was coming over now and he’d let you know how it went as soon as he could. You thought about doing something to preoccupy your mind while you waited, but knew that trying to do anything would be useless. So you just went home. And waited. And waited.

It felt like decades had gone by when your phone finally chimed with a text from FP asking you to come over for dinner. Was he serious? No context, no update. Just a dinner invite? You typed back furiously “uhhhh what am I walking into here, Jones?”. Fuck, it went bad. You knew it was a bad idea. Fuck.

His response came quick, but not quick enough to calm the rising anxiety in your stomach.

“He took it good. Invited Betty over too. Figured it'd be nice to get everyone on the same page right off the bat”

Oh. Okay. So Jug didn’t hate your guts. That was promising. You’d have to feel out exact how he was taking it when you got there, but knowing Betty would be there too was promising. You got yourself ready, texted Betty to see if she wanted a ride, and then you went on your merry way.

Betty had a lot of questions in the car ride over. She knew you had seen FP again because of your sleepover text escapades and you’d made some casual comments about how it was going here and there, but nothing of any substance. You kept FP from Betty mostly because you didn’t want to have to ask her to lie to Jughead. She kept the little information she had known to herself, but now that it was out in the open, she was ravenous for details. Between her and Jughead’s thirst for knowledge and inability to leave anything alone, you were shocked it had taken this long honestly. She asked how serious things had gotten and how often you saw each other and if you’d discussed any future plans. And you told her everything. Honestly, it felt nice to be able to confide in someone about your relationship.

By the time you got to the South Side, Betty was fully clued in on your life. You walked up to the trailer, letting Betty enter first. You ambled in behind her nervous as all hell. It was like telling Jug about the bet all over again, except with way more than 50 bucks at stake. FP greeted Betty with a warm hug and then turned to you. “How’s my girl?” he asked with a grin, throwing his arms around you and kissing the top of your head before you could even get a word out.

“Oh you know, living the dream,” you responded angling your head up so he could plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“God, it’s so much worse seeing it. Like I knew it was happening but- fuck, that’s just off-putting” said Jughead, with no real malice in his voice and just a dash of pure disgust.

“Aw, stop it; they’re cute!” Betty gushed. Your cheeks turned pink at the attention, but FP made no move to let you go which comforted your anxiety.

You hadn’t really thought about the whole “my boyfriend can’t cook anything that isn’t microwaveable” thing when you had originally made dinner plans, but thankfully he had taken the initiative to order in at some point. And Chinese food was bound to make anyone agreeable to even the most uncomfortable of situations.

But luckily, things were mostly normal at dinner. Jug and FP caught up on Serpent news, while Betty filled you in on Riverdale’s mystery de jour. (She was 100% convinced that there was something funky up with that new girl and her weirdly blonde dad, but everyone else thought she was crazy. You believed her, but knew better than to get involved. You were NOT going to be the next girl knifed to a musical background because you sniffed around too hard at the insanity that followed B around). Somehow, the conversations got intertwined when FP and Betty connected the dots that maybe this weird girl’s “Farm” was where Fangs had been disappearing to, and you found yourself extremely out of the loop. You excused yourself to start dinner clean up, and, to your surprise, Jughead volunteered to help you. Not that Jughead was a necessarily unhelpful person, you just assumed he would be of more help with the discussion at hand. And that he would probably want to give you a wide birth while he processed the news that you were dating his father. Either one.

You started to silently put away leftovers and wash dishes by hand, as you couldn’t think of anything to say to each other. Silence with Jug had always been comfortable before- a time to think and write and not have to fill the void with mindless bullshit. But for the first time it felt fragile- like one loud noise and the whole trailer would blow up. You just had to say something. Anything. But before you could decide on whether or not it was stupid to talk to your best friend about the weather, he decided to point out the giant leather-clad elephant in the room.

“I’m trying really hard to not be weird about this,” he admitted while drying the plates you were washing. You blinked at him, afraid to cut him off. “I mean, logically, i’m not…opposed. Dad and I have never been particularly close and it’s not like I even live here. You’ve just always fit into a particular space in my life and now I have to find a way to fit you into a very different space.”

“I get that. And I’m not asking you to change anything for me. I know we’ve always had a bond over growing up the way we did. Independent" - i.e. neglected- "and rocky." - i.e. unstable- "And I don’t want this to change that.”

He looked mildly incredulous, “Of course it changes that. I can’t-“

You cut him off. “Yes you can". You lowered your voice and turned to look Jughead in the eye for possibly the first time in weeks. “Yes, FP is my boyfriend. Yes, I have incredibly strong feelings for him that I’m still trying to work out. But I was your friend first. And he was your dad first- a shitty one! And you’re still trying to repair that relationship. You can still talk to me about him, even the bad stuff. I’m not going to automatically take his side in everything. I knew who he was when I started seeing him, don’t think I don’t know.”

Jughead studied you like one of the boards with red string and different clues he has set up. He just stared at your with those unwavering eyes and you refused to look away, not even once. He finally found whatever he was searching for. “Okay,” he sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. It’s just going to be an adjustment period. But if you’re both happy then…” he trails off and shrugs, but you can tell there’s more thoughts in that always one-step-ahead brain of his. You wait for him to form them into a sentence. “I don’t want you to get hurt either. He wasn’t always particularly good with my mom. Or Alice. Once things settle, he gets... complacent. Stops caring.” Jughead's gaze found a point in the distance to fixate on while he thought, surely, about his own relationship with FP Jones and how once things got hard, he stopped trying with him too.

“I know. And this has only been a few weeks, I’m not expecting anything at this point. I’m not saying he’s changed because I don’t know. I wasn’t there for the before and I can’t be sure if we’re in the after. i just know that I believe he has the capability to be a good guy, and that’s enough for me to give him a chance. I see it in the way he tries now. Please don’t think I would ever date a man believing he’s still shitty.”

Jug snorts at that. “You do love to put men in their place.”

“I really, really do.” Jughead bumps his shoulder into yours and it feels good. Normal. Feels like acceptance.

-------------------------------------------------

By the time Jughead and Betty left, you’d decided it was late enough to warrant you staying the night. You and FP flopped down onto the couch, coming down from a joint anxiety wave that you hadn’t even really noticed.

"That went well,” he stated to no one in particular. “I think,” he added, scrunching up his face just the tiniest bit.

“Very well,” you responded, turning towards him and tucking yourself into his side. “Jug and I talked for a little. He’s okay with it.”

FP just twisted his head to look and you and quirked it to the side, looking for more details. “It'll be an adjustment period for him,” you continued. “But nothing he can’t handle. I think he knows that this makes sense. We make sense.” You laced your fingers in between his as he kissed the top of your head.

“Good. That makes this so much easier,” he admitted, resting his head on top of yours. You sat like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, breathing slow, enjoying the silence, and sharing small kisses and light touches.

Eventually FP scooped you up and carried you to bed, where light touches became heavier and kisses became feverish, until you were both so warn out that you passed out, wrapped up in each other again.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note Pt 2:

I will never get over the Chad Michael Murray Organ Harvesting Incest Cult plot line.

Why are you, as an adult man, blonde, CMM?

Trying to get back into the flow of writing this as a full blown adult is crazy because I lack the suspension of disbelief that I had when I started writing this. Why are you dating that child, FP Jones? But for you all?? I will suspend my life if you asked.

Tags under the cut:

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@ragweed98 @reblogserpent @cassidyiscool @cyberbadman @ohhmyexo @anondunar @colie87 @scintilla-morningstar @princess-east @xxghostnappaxx @ee17s @prettyinpunk85 @popcrone818 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @shittylittleweirdo @notquitecannon @startwiththeridingcrop @derangedcupcake @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @castixlswings @abrunettefangirlnerd @nijiru @mochionly @shskyem @missirenlove @bxtchopolis @feywildwolf @djarinsblaster @nhavs-bhat @chloe-skywalker @mrsmacherloomis @decodedlvr

[hanahaki-disease]

Beyond the Farthest Reaches

Hell or High Water - Percy Jackson/DC crossover

Summary:

“Filler” fics that are a part of the series that could have been their own installment but didn’t make the cut to have their own upload, so they’re shoved in here. They will vary in length, quality, and seriousness, and they take place throughout the timeline of the series and will be updated with no rhyme or reason, just as I see fit. Their place will be stated before each one so you’re not as confused.

Fore warning though that, while you can read these back to back, you might get spoilers if you haven’t gotten to a certain part of the series yet.

*Ao3 link here*

****************************************

The Real Reason

Set after “Basking in the Solace of Regret”

Summary: A quest must appeal to both parties involved to be successful.

She is Mother

Set after “Talking with Razors on your Tongue” (A far into the future upload, but you can still read this without spoilers)

Summary: Everyone needs a mother, so why shouldn’t Percy?

Time Goes By So Slowly

Set in the April before “Basking in the Solace of Regret”

Summary: Many thoughts pass through one’s head before death.

Too Pretty (unfortunately)

Set after “Mouth of Infinity”

Summary: To be beautiful is to be wanted, and to be wanted can attract not-so beautiful things.

Regret lies at the Bottom of the Bottle

In tandem with “Waiting on some Holy Favor”

Summary: A person true thoughts are revealed when inhibitions are gone.

Bubbles

Set After “There is a New Intention” (A far into the future upload, but you can still read this without spoilers)

Summary: “A nick name is a term of endearment placed upon a person by family and close friends. It can also be given by members of a team, group, or among strangers to differentiate a person from the other, not to be confused with the malicious definition of ‘name.’”

“You look like a nerd,” Jason said.

The Line that Separates Us

Set After “Driven by a Holy Force” (a future upload that can be enjoyed without spoilers)

Summary: Even gods are bound by law.

The Other Side of the Coin

Set during “I asked, You answered”

Summary: A person needs at least one person to know their true selves. If they don’t, that person loses who they truly are.

A Step Back Towards You

In tandem with “My Love Withers (and Chokes in Perfect Awe)”

Summary: It easy to forget how much can change when you get along with someone, or how much hasn’t.

You? You!

Set during “And You Wonder What I Believe”

Summary: Chance meeting do not exist, not in this world.

Sing Sweet, Nightingale

Set after “And You Wonder What I Believe”

Summary: Late night lullabies bring more than just sleep.

Robin? Yes, but also No

Set After “And You Wonder What I Believe”

Summary: Being Robin was big shoes to fill, it’s a good thing he has his own pair and that its temporary.

Power Up Unlocked!

Set shortly before “Eternity will bring You near”

Summary: Opportunities always arrive at the most inconvenient time. Annoying, isn’t it?

[aziraphales-library]

Greetings and salutations! Thank you all for your hard work! I was wondering if y'all knew any slice-of-life style, character-driven type fics? Not necessarily plotless, just focusses on character drama over plot drama. Preferably on the longer, slowburn-y side and canon compliant. Sorry if this is incoherent, but I figured if anyone could help y'all could. Thanks again!

Hello! Here are some slow-burn/slice of life more character-driven fics for you...

Taking Steps by JoyAndOtherStories (G)

Crowley was in a state of shock. Admittedly, this shouldn’t have been surprising, given that his recent experiences included near-death, body-swapping, car explosions, bookshop conflagrations, and rebellious eleven-year-olds defeating the forces of Heaven, Hell, and independent contractors. But that had been two weeks ago, and though saying he’d recovered would have been not so much stretching the truth as utterly shattering it, his current state of shock was…something different. “Say—say that again, angel?” he managed. “You said…you wanted to try…new things?” Basically: Aziraphale wants to try new things. The first one he comes up with: Salsa dancing! Meanwhile, Crowley really just wants to snuggle with his angel. Fluffy pining ensues while they figure out that they actually both want the same thing.

Take My Heart (But Not My Hand) by Ghostinthehouse (T)

"You know he needs touch?" "Yeah," Crowley says, following Adam's gaze to Aziraphale. "I know. We'll figure it out, he and I. We always do. Eventually."

My Favorite Ghost by DiminishingReturns (T)

Decades after the world didn’t end, Heaven and Hell got their war — and nearly destroyed everything in the process. When Aziraphale finally manages to reacquire a corporation and return to Earth, he discovers he was gone longer than he thought and the planet has become unrecognizable. As he searches for Crowley and tries to figure out how he fits in a world that Heaven, Hell, and God have all wiped their hands of, nature works around him to reclaim the bones of an old civilization as the scraps of humanity build a new one. A lush and optimistic post-apocalypse story, told from the POV of an immortal who can't let go of the past.

Though Heaven Bar the Way by books-and-omens (T)

Nearly five decades after the Holy Water argument, Aziraphale is sent to a world-famous sanatorium in the Swiss Alps on an assignment that Heaven appears to care about rather more than usual—only to find out that Crowley, of all creatures, has already established himself there. Clearly, this cannot be good for anyone's constitution.

Pictures of You by AnnetheCatDetective (M) (WIP)

It starts with a well-meaning gift, and a hopeful invitation. Mod note: While this fic is technically a WIP that has not been updated since 2019, it does currently end on a satisfying note.

I Only Have Eyes For You by Twilightcitysky (M)

After narrowly escaping execution, Aziraphale and Crowley want to fly under the radar for a while. Worried that performing miracles will reveal their location to their former bosses, they relocate to the country and stop using their powers. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is ready to start moving faster... and Crowley has a secret. Can he keep Aziraphale from realizing what's changed while juggling moving trucks, furniture assembly, inquisitive mediums, attacks of Feng Shui, and the mortifying ordeal of grocery shopping? A fic about moving in together, finding yourself, and finding one another.

- Mod D

[vizkopa]

Damned if you Do (Devil!Doflamingo x Reader) Part 3

I WAS planning on updating something else first, but this fic really has a hold on me right now and I might just be falling for Rosinante a little so hope you don't mind :P Usual warnings for NSFW stuff and religious themes. Mentions of terminal illness in this one too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3: Chokehold

~

It was odd to see Rosinante in a t-shirt and jeans. You had stared at him for so long, he’d had to wave his hand in front of your face before you realised he had asked you a question.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said, do you want to take the bed and I’ll take the couch?”

“Oh. Don’t put yourself out just because of me. I’ll take the couch.”

“You’ll take the bed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Dad.”

Rosi’s little one-room cottage on the property behind the church was barely bigger than your studio apartment, but it was cosy. Crocheted blankets and piles of books seemed to cover every surface, and the windowsill was overflowing with plants all in various stages of dying. You wanted nothing more than to just collapse onto the plush looking couch and sleep the afternoon away, but Rosi had piled the tiny dining table high with books on demon hierarchies and exorcisms and intended to read every single one of them in the hopes of finding a way to banish a Demon Lord.

“I’m not that much older than you, you know.”

“It’s not my fault you give off dad energy! The priest getup really doesn’t do you any favours.”

“Yes, well, that’s kind of the point of it.”

You walked to the neatly made bed and dropped your rucksack onto it, feeling a little weird about sleeping in a priest’s bed. The duvet was pink with little red hearts all over and for some reason you found that endearing.

“I’m going to order us some food. Any preferences?”

And so it was that the afternoon crawled by, Rosi absorbed in reading, you alternating between skimming whatever you could find that wasn’t in Latin, and texting Law while empty Thai takeout boxes slowly piled up in front of you.

I can’t see you for a while. These protections Rosi put on me are hardcore. He says lesser demons won’t be able to come within fifty feet of me.

I’ll be fine. Do what you need to do. Stay safe.

You sighed and scratched absently at the skin of your neck. You reeked of holy oils and incense, and would kill for a shower, but Rosi had forbidden you from doing so until it was time to renew the wards. He had also forbidden you to leave the church grounds. Not that you had anywhere else to be, but the thought alone was enough to have you feeling cooped up.

You sighed again and snapped your book shut. “How about I just kill him?”

Rosi looked up, surprised as if he’d forgotten you were even there. “Well, there’s the small problem of him possessing control over your body. Not to mention any Lord of Hell would have considerable physical strength too.”

“What if I took him by surprise?”

“He would likely possess supernatural senses as well. I doubt it would end well for you.”

You pouted and folded your arms over your chest. “It was just an idea.”

“An idea that’s likely to get you killed.”

He set the book down on the table with a sigh and rubbed his eyes. Then he surprised you by taking a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one, cracking the window to blow the smoke out into the dreary twilight air.

You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m trying to quit,” he said defensively.

“How have I known you for two whole years and never knew you were a smoker?”

“It’s not exactly a good look for a priest to show up to mass reeking of tobacco.” He offered you one.

You shook your head. “I’m good. But I wouldn’t say no to some of that nasty communion wine.”

Rosi grinned sheepishly. “I can do you one better.” He stubbed out the cigarette and opened the dining room cabinet, from which he pulled a bottle of bourbon whiskey. A very expensive bottle of bourbon whiskey.

You raised both eyebrows. “Father, you continue to surprise me.”

He poured you each a healthy measure, then clinked his glass against yours and took his seat again. The bourbon was smooth and rich and you could feel your nerves ease at the soothing notes of butterscotch and oak.

“Not bad for a Priest,” you admitted. “How old are you anyway?”

“I turned 30 last July.”

You were speechless. He was so young. Only four years your senior.

“The hell makes someone want to be a priest at your age?”

He frowned at your use of language, but otherwise said nothing for a long while. Not until he had finished his glass and poured both you and himself another did he finally speak.

“When I was a child, my older brother was possessed by a demon.”

Shock hung in the air between you. You’d had no idea. Not when you first came to him two years ago begging for help, and not in the years since had he ever mentioned anything about his history. You supposed you hadn’t really made the effort to get to know him beyond a professional relationship though. Not when you knew your time was limited.

“What happened?”

“He killed our parents. He almost killed me. A priest died trying to exorcise the demon and… my brother didn’t survive the ordeal…” His tone was clipped.

“Holy shit, Rosi… I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “I became a priest because once I knew that kind of evil was out there, destroying lives, I couldn’t just turn a blind eye.” He finished off his drink once more and lit another cigarette.

You didn’t know what to say.

“You wanna tell me what you sold your soul for?”

You winced. Honestly, you had been expecting that question for two years.

“Not particularly,” you said. “But I suppose it’s only fair.”

You reached across the table and took the cigarette from Rosi’s finger, letting yourself take one long drag to calm your racing heart before handing it back.

“I was 16 and stupid. I was in love with a boy. I mean, I thought I was in love. You know how teenagers are.” You laughed awkwardly. “We’d been best friends for years but in our sophomore year, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer.”

“Oh, [Name]…”

You could feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but you willed them away. “I was so desperate, I was willing to do anything… And when I met a man at a crossroads one night while I was walking home from the hospital, I believed him when he said he could make my wildest, deepest desire a reality. And, well..”

“Your soul for a life.”

“Yep.” You took another sip of your drink, letting it cast its welcome fog over your mind. “It worked. He lived. And at that age ten years felt like an eternity.”

“And you and your… friend?”

You shrugged. “We grew apart. He was never interested in me the same way and eventually I moved on too.” You cleared your throat loudly, banishing the last of the tears that threatened to escape. “I was young and stupid and I guess I’m just getting what I deserve now.”

You looked up at Rosi to find that his eyes had softened. “You may have done a stupid thing,” he said gently. “But you were not stupid. And you deserve to live a full and happy life just as much as that boy you saved.”

You almost teared up again at his words, but instead you just gave him a warm, genuine smile and poured yourself another drink.

Many hours and half a bottle of bourbon later, the two of you finally turned in—you, stumbling, to the bed, Rosi to the couch once more despite your insistence that you would have been fine on the couch.

You were out in moments, but when you opened your eyes, you were no longer in the priest’s little cottage, but an extravagant bed chamber, draped in burgundy velvets and silks. On the bed, was the Demon Lord.

His eyes were closed, head tilted back against the headboard, and he was… stroking himself. Languidly. As if he had nowhere else in the world to be. Your mouth suddenly dry, you scanned the room for an exit, hoping against hope you could leave before he noticed you were there (were you there? Or were you still back in the cottage?). His voice stopped you before you could even take a step.

“I’d been wondering where you’d got to,” he purred. “Have you been hiding from me, my dear?”

His eyes were open now, fixing you with a mesmerising ice blue stare. You struggled to keep your gaze level with his as that hand continued to do sinful things beneath the silk covers. “Clearly not well enough,” you said. The words did not come out as cool as you were hoping they would.

He clicked his tongue. “Found yourself a holy man, I see. How long before he sees who you truly are and leaves you like the rest?”

“And you think you know who I truly am?”

“I can see the darkness inside you, my dear. It calls to me like mine calls to you. Don’t try to deny it.” He pressed a hand to his chest and you felt your own heart lurch in response.

How easy it would be to just crawl into his bed, to let him claim you. To finally stop fighting for a soul you were sure was even worth saving. Faster than you could blink, he was before you, naked and beautiful and terrifying. He lifted a hand to cup your chin, tilting your face until his mouth only inches from yours. You felt a twist of desire deep in your gut. “We are bound, you and I. I wore a different form then, but I still remember the kiss we shared. Do you?”

You nodded. How could you forget. It had been your first kiss. A seal on the contract that damned your immortal soul.

“I have been waiting for the moment I could taste you again.”

You didn’t fight it when he lowered his lips to yours. He tasted of pomegranate and honey, intoxicating as the whiskey that still clouded your thoughts. A small voice in the back of your head told you you were dreaming, but you shoved it aside. If this was a dream, then there was no harm in indulging. Just a little.

He deepened the kiss, and you parted you lips for him, eager to taste more of that heady sweetness. His hand found your waist and tugged you against his tall, hard body, the evidence of his arousal hot and eager against your stomach. You wound your hands in his blond hair, nails scraping as you tugged him impossibly closer.

Wake up.

The voice was there again, more insistent this time. You growled and shoved it away harder. The demon seemed to be laughing at your internal battle. His other hand grazed the length of your body, from shoulder to thigh, leaving fire in its wake and fuelling the fire between your legs. Almost as if he had read your thoughts, he hoisted you into his arms and pressed your back against the velvet-draped wall.

Fuck. You could feel all of him against you, your drenched sleep shorts the only barrier between you and that impressive length. You wanted it. You wanted him. More than anything you’ve ever wanted in your life—

WAKE UP.

You gasped awake. Darkness surrounded you. Your skin burned like a fever and your nightclothes were twisted around you and drenched in sweat, but a cool pair of hands held your shoulders. For a fraction of a second, you thought you were still dreaming and the demon was holding you down, but a familiar voice gave you pause.

“[Name]!”

Rosi knelt above you, dressed in only his boxers. He sighed in relief when he noticed you were awake.

“Thank God,” he said. “You were dreaming. I couldn’t wake you.”

“I—,” you croaked, your throat dry. You swallowed and tried again. “I don’t think it was a dream. He found me.”

You couldn’t see Rosi’s face in the darkness, but he sat up on his heels, concern lacing every word. “How? I gave you every protection I knew of!”

You shook your head. “Maybe the whiskey made it easier to slip past the wards, I don’t know.”

Now that the sweat was drying on your skin, you shivered in the cool night air. Rosi almost fell off the bed in his haste to fetch you a blanket, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders. You were grateful not just for the warmth, but because you could still feel a slickness between your thighs that—though he couldn’t see it in the dark—felt indecent in the presence of a priest.

“What happened?” Rosi sat back on the edge of the bed.

“I fell asleep and suddenly I was… somewhere else. Not physically, I guess, if my body was still here. But everything felt real.”

“Did he hurt you?”

You laughed. “I assure you, Father, it was quite the opposite.” You changed the subject quickly. “He said something interesting though, before… He said he’s bound by this contract too. Maybe that means there’s a loophole somewhere, or that he can be convinced to break it somehow.”

“You think so?”

“Maybe. I don’t know..

“We’ll look into it tomorrow. We should try and get some sleep.”

“I… don’t know if I can.”

Rosi thought for a second, then rummaged in the drawer in the bedside table. As he did so, it suddenly clicked that he was very much shirtless. And… kind of jacked? You pushed the thought out of your clearly sex-addled brain as he looped something around your neck. It was a rosary.

“Wear this to sleep. If you know the Hail Mary, maybe say a few. I think it should work until we can find a better solution in the morning, okay?”

You nodded your thanks and curled up on your side, clutching the rosary to you chest. But you didn’t sleep. You couldn’t.

From Rosi’s whispered prayers in the other room, neither could he.

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

hello :) how are you ? i saw that you followed me, thank you by the way ! may i request a adhd!reader x thomas fanfic please ? They have a telepatic link together. She is mejack. Being in the glade wasn't easy for her because of the works, she needed to focus and being fast and it exhausted her also some gladers wasn't very nice to her so one day she has a ouburst and yell across the glade. Thomas her boyfriend was the first to comfort her.

sorry for my english im french

Hey! I'm doing pretty well, ty for asking

Yeah I looked at your page and saw maze runner, teen wolf, and taylor, so I absolutely had to follow ❤

Thanks for the request, I hadn't gotten to explore the telepathy thing from the books in my fics yet, so that was fun to write. Hope you enjoy!

Calm and Storm

Thomas x adhd!fem!reader

Set during tmr (movieverse)

Notes: I am not personally close with anyone with ADHD, so representation of ADHD in this fic is completely research-based, like my fic Tides which had an autistic reader. Let me know if anything should be changed.

More notes: I also added an emotional empathy-type bond on top of the telepathy thing. Canon divergence where Thomas is in the Glade for at least a few more weeks before everything happens i.e. Teresa coming, the Grievers attacking, all the stuff. it happens later.

Warnings: language, minor injuries, some asshole men and suggestive comments, I feel like it's not written that well :( hopefully it's ok

You remember the first time you met Thomas.

"And in here, we've got the Medjacks." Newt's voice floated in from the entrance.

You'd missed seeing the Box come up, cause one of the Gladers was sick and needed to be watched.

You turned and smiled at the new boy. "Hey, I'm Y/n."

You're a girl, you heard.

"You've got some stellar observation skills there," you said, smirking.

Thomas had looked surprised, and Newt looked between the two of you, confused.

"Uh- Y/n, what?"

...did Newt not hear what the Greenie said?

"Um... anyway, you here for a crash course on Medjacks?" You decided to just continue and skip over that weird exchange.

Little did you know that was the first of many telepathic conversations to come.

You found out about your mental link with Thomas the next night.

When he was stuck in the Maze with Minho, you'd called out to him in your mind, and been stunned when he responded.

After confusedly realising that you clearly had some sort of mental connection, you stayed up all night talking to him and supporting him.

Holy shit, I just killed a Griever

What the shuck? How is that even possible?

I ran and baited it until it was crushed between the walls.

You must've looked pretty strange that night, alone in the Medjack hut making hand gestures and facial expressions to nobody, and pacing around the room restlessly.

What're you doing now?

I'm with Minho, we need to get back to Alby.

Okay. Stay with me, alright? Just keep updating me.

Sure, oh- ohhhh shit!

What? What happened?

I just heard another Griever, I don't think I can kill another one, holy shit, what do we do-

Thomas! Calm down. Breathe. Focus on my voice.

Minho- Minho's saying something.

Okay, good, just follow him.

Shitshitshitshitshit

You realise you can feel emotions through the bond too, and Thomas' fear is spiralling straight into you.

Thomas?

Yeah, I'm here. Just say anything. Tell me about anything, just distract me.

Okay, you keep following Minho alright?

Yeah yeah, just talk to me so I don't hear the Grievers as much.

You got it.

You try to channel your own emotions too.

Hey, when you get back, I can ask Frypan to make pancakes.

There's pancakes in this place?

Only for special occasions. We put the good fruits on them and everything.

You mentally push as much comfort as you can through the bond. It feels weird, and you don't know if it works, until-

Hey, Y/n, is that you?

What?

I can feel like... calmness, or something. Are you doing that?

Shucking hell, it actually worked.

You just keep talking all through the night.

When he gets back, the two of you sort through how the bond works.

Basically, you can talk to each other through telepathy, and also send emotions through sometimes.

Usually, the emotions won't go if you don't push them across on purpose.

But, if it's strong enough, like Thomas' fear from that night, it'll be felt by the other person.

Having that bond brings you closer to Thomas, and before you know it you're practically attached at the hip.

You trade little jokes with each other during meetings and meals, and sometimes you chat while you're working.

⭒----⭒

It's a few weeks after Thomas arrives in the Glade that you start dating.

Boys had always tried to hit on you, cause you know, you're shuckin' pretty (and also hot, obviously), but you were never interested in any of them.

Until Thomas.

You started crushing on him when you became friends and got to know him better.

He makes you laugh, and his smile is intoxicating, and he has an insane knack for remembering the little things you mention in conversation.

Things you'd only mention once, for half a second, like bringing up the little flower garden by the lake.

But he still remembers.

And that's how he confessed his feelings to you.

You can still feel the nervousness coursing through the bond from him as he handed you a bundle of white flowers, smiling shyly.

Then you felt joy, both his and yours when you told him you liked him too, and you had your first kiss.

⭒----⭒

Aside from casual conversation and sharing emotions, the connection also helps you a lot, cause Thomas can feel when your frustration seeps through the bond, and he can come over to look after you.

As a Medjack, the work isn't always the best - sometimes it feels like you're fighting your own brain to do your job.

Most of your work includes sitting at a table in the Medjack hut and repetitively making cures for various ailments and injuries.

You often feel restless sitting at that desk, finding it hard to force yourself to stay seated and focus on the task.

That's not to say you're bad at your job.

You make the most effective hangover cures the Glade has ever seen, and you can bandage a wound faster than both Jeff and Clint.

You just hate doing one thing for too long.

Oftentimes you'll impulsively switch to rolling bandages halfway through mixing fever medicine, or you'll be constantly fidgeting during the Medjack segment of council meetings.

Essentially, being a Medjack can be a lot sometimes.

Like today.

Most of the Gladers are good guys, but there's still a few that you loathe to treat.

There's a Builder, Derek, a grade-A asshole who can never stop sending you that smarmy, suggestive grin and making obscene comments about you and Thomas, as well as outright insulting your work.

Unfortunately, Derek is clumsy as klunk, and is always getting cut up on sharp pieces of wood.

He thinks being littered with scars is cool, and wears his stupid shirt with the sleeves obnoxiously cut off, because apparently having scratched up arms from being unable to stay on a ladder is a good look that must be shared with the world. (or just wear a singlet bro, you didn't have to cut up a t-shirt).

Anyways, Derek is once again injured, and is yelling at the Medjack hut from where he and another Builder are working on the council hall.

"Oi! Can we get some help over here? People are injured!" His grating voice cuts through the peace of the hut.

Clint looks up in concern. "Shuck, must be bad. Y/n, let's go take a look."

You take a breath to steady yourself. You've had a rough day already, dealing with some difficult Gladers, and having to treat Derek might just push you off the edge.

Plus, you only got like, two hours of sleep last night, so you're pretty exhausted.

You gather some supplies and rush out of the hut to where Derek is waiting.

He's sitting calmly on a rock, legs visibly uninjured.

Even Clint's annoyed at this point. "Couldn't've even walked to the hut?" he mutters.

There's blood dripping from Derek's shoulder, which; how do you even get injured there.

Medjacks treat all patients with care, you tell yourself, gritting your teeth.

"I'll take Derek, you take care of John," says Clint, clapping a hand on your shoulder. He leaves to grab a needle for stitches.

You nod gratefully; Clint's probably remembering your many rants about Derek in the huts.

You carefully examine John's sprained wrist, grabbing supplies to make a brace before bandaging the injury.

"Hey Y/n," calls Derek. "Any chance you can hurry up with that? I need some help here."

Clint must be stuck in the hut with something.

"Just. Wait." you say stiffly, through clenched teeth.

At this point, you're about one more comment away from taking a swing at Derek.

You feel your anger start to build as Derek steps closer.

Y/n?

Shuck, you're mad enough to alert Thomas.

It's fine, you send back.

"Seriously?" Derek's leaning over John's wrist right now, inspecting your brace. "It's just a sprain. How is this taking so long?"

"Dude, back off," says John.

You ignore Derek despite being ready to punch him. "You should ask Frypan for ice later," you tell John. "Don't work for at least the rest of the day okay? I'm gonna bandage it now."

"That's how you're leaving the brace?" Derek stares down at your work.

"Look, do you wanna do it?" you huff, before berating yourself for giving in and speaking to him.

"I guess your hands are busy doing other things for Thomas to practice doing actual medical work."

You stand abruptly, hands clenched furiously.

"What is your problem?" you exclaim. "Just shut the fuck up and leave me alone!"

"Woah there," says Derek, laughing a little. "Chill out girly."

You're actually seething by now, and-

Y/n!

What.

Hey, you're okay. What's wrong?

Nothing. It's fine.

You can almost hear him sigh half-fondly and half-exasperatedly through the bond. I'm comin' out of the Maze now. I'll be at the hut in two minutes.

"Uh- hello?" Derek waves his hand in your face.

You shove his hand away before bending to bandage John's wrist.

"Finally," says Derek when you're done. "Can you do my shoulder now?"

"No," you say flatly. "It's a minor cut. You can wait for Clint."

"Hey, I'm pretty sure it's your responsibility. I'd prefer to wait for Clint, too, but I-"

"Shucking hell, enough!" you shout, voice rising quickly. "Can't you just leave me alone, you piece of klunk! God, you're always looking for someone to bother, finding some way to annoy someone. What, do you just want attention? Please just get out of my face."

The Glade seems frozen, with people looking up from their work to watch.

Then a soft voice breaks the silence. "Hey," says Thomas. He comes up behind you and gives you that signature grin.

"Derek, a pleasure as always." He flips him off with one hand, using the other to take your hand, and you let him lead you into the Medjack hut.

"Clint," says Thomas. "There's a dickhead outside who needs stitches. Is it okay if you..."

"Oh shuck, sorry." Clint grabs the needle and thread he'd initially come in from. "Got distracted," he explains.

You snort. "I get that."

Clint leaves, leaving you and Thomas alone.

You take a seat on one of the beds, and he sits facing you in a stool.

He gently kicks out a leg, nudging you in the shin.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say. "Just- you know."

"Just what?"

You sigh, scrubbing your face with a hand. "That was embarrassing."

Thomas looks at you incredulously. "Are you kidding? Everything you said was more than valid. Derek's just a horrible person, don't let him make you feel embarrassed."

"Yeah... but everyone was watching."

"I'd watch too. I'd watch the strongest, coolest, prettiest person in the Glade ripping into this sorry excuse for a human."

You huff out a laugh at his dramatics. "Thanks."

"Hey, c'mon." Thomas pulls you into a hug, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Wanna have dinner in the flower field today?"

"I'd love that," you reply, grinning.

Heyy I'm loving the diversity of readers in my asks lately. Thanks for sending this one ❤❤

Also, I know my tense is messed up in this one. I usually write in present but idk this one's just funky. Hope it was alright.

In general I'm a little unsure about how this fic turned out, I feel like the writing wasn't really good. This weekend was pretty hectic and I didn't get in the flow of writing :((( idk I hope it was still an enjoyable fic.

Anyway, is asshole Derek based on someone I know? nope just an oddly specific OC. in other news I have a family friend I always have to see at get togethers who loves making his furniture from scratch and can never stay safe while making his fucking chairs and lets us know proudly every time he has to go to the ER. he's a douche not a misunderstood hot guy trust me on that

[justabigoldnerd]

A Guide to Works by JustABigOldNerd

I saw @hypnostheory do this and I have 38 (holy shit!) works in the TMFU Fandom on Ao3, so I wanted to as well!

"I wanna read somethings soft and sweet" Okay! I don't have a lot, but:

Kintsukuroi - Set in the Winged Spies universe, Solo catches up with an old friend

I'm Going to the Stars Tonight - Playful (and drunk) winged spies

In Summer We Can Taste The Rain - Solo catches a winged Illya preening in the rain

Ravens Love The Snow - A winged Solo can't resist the call of the snow

A Christmas Peril - A Christmas fic!

Surrender Yourself - a funny little pre-slash ficlet based on a writing prompt found here

I Want To Fade Away With You - Modern-ish AU company paintball tournament goes (hilariously) wrong

In The Moonlight, We Let It Go - Poolside confessions

"I'd like some light angst, nothing too serious, please" Gotcha covered:

One More or One Less (Nobody's Worried) - Winged Spies canon rewrite

The Toil of Expectations - Medieval AU with a happy ending and a couple of explicit smut scenes

"Q" Is For Kid - the trio accidentally acquire a child on their mission to stop a Nazi faction from developing a nerve gas

To Grow Old In Simplicity - this is mostly happy, the angst comes from the fear of outliving your partners and the struggles that come with being an aging (former) spy

The Moment I Knew I'd No Choice But To Love You - the agnst in this one is more memory related

Is That The Kinda Way To Face The Burning Heat? - porn with a little bit of angsty backstory

Nothin' But The Water And The Sunrise Now - light angsty backstory with some fun NOS-induced moments and a happy ending

All Eyes On Me (Your Eyes On Me) - this one's a bit heavier, but the angst is just internalized homophobia and Illya not wanting to be a honeypot but needing to. Has masturbation and explicit smut

I Am Scared Of Nothing - religious trauma

A Rather Frightening Thing - religious trauma

As Sharp And Serious As A Pistol In The Eye - canon rewrite (explicit smut)

It Takes Three To Tango - post-canon

"Alright, now I want the heavy stuff. Gimme the angst!" Coming right up, my friend!!

Emotional Angst:

You Had To Be A Big Shot, Didn't You (You Had To Open Up Your Mouth) - Winged Solo backstory

My Wings Have Been So Denied - Winged Illya as a child

She'll Tell You She's an Orphan After You Meet Her Family - Winged Gaby grieving (explicit smut)

You Take Me In Your Arms When Walls Are Closing In - Body Horror in (false)memory

Pretty Piece of Flesh - sexual trauma (explicit sexual content)

The Awful Things We Do To Make The Head Go Quiet - near suicide attempt

Lost On You - internalized homophobia and period typical homophobia

Physical Harm:

Quietly, It Slips Through Your Fingers, Love (Falling From You Drop By Drop) - Alternative ending where Illya shoots Solo (he lives)

Let Me Be Your Own Icarian Carrion - Winged Spies, Illya goes down in the water

One Deep Breath Out From The Sky - Missing scene fic after the motorcycle crash

Whumptober 2023 - "The Man From Uncle (2015)" - I mean. This is Whumptober. So.

Will You Remember All The Danger We Came From? - Vampire Illya prequel. Body Horror.

All My Love And Terror Balanced There - Illya wakes up as a Vampire. (Explicit smut)

I'd Block The Sun (If You Want It Done) - the trio's plane goes down in the middle of the ocean and they have to survive on a deserted island

Grounded And Giving And Darkening Scorn - Illya's past comes back to haunt him

The Injury of Finally Knowing You - 5+1 Times fic

Major Character Death (temporary):

The End Is All I Can See (And It Scares The Hell Out Of Me) - time loop

"I want that one restaurant critic AU that will be updates eventually but hasn't for a while!" Uh, oddly specific, and thank you for wanting to read this unfinished fic, and I WILL finish it eventually, but, uh, here ya go!:

Michelin Star Spy - Illya is a food critic swept up in spydom.

[mickeyheartian]

Ian Galager

I've been looking for fics mentioning Mickey's tattoo of Ian's name, and haven't been able to find many. Also, I love fics mentioning Mickey's relationship with his siblings. So, I wrote this.

How Mickey's family find out about/react to his new tattoo.

Mandy

Mandy stares at Sandy, unsure if she just heard her cousin correctly.  They were sat in the Milkovich living room catching up.  Mandy had returned home two days ago to an empty house, shocked to see Sandy as the first to show up.  They hadn’t seen each other in years, and not just the past year that Mandy had been away.

"Mickey's home?" Mandy asks, looking at her in disbelief. "I thought he was in Mexico?"

"No, released from prison yesterday," Sandy informed her.

“Asshole!  Where is he?”

“Gallaghers.”

“Gallaghers?  Wait, Ian’s home too?”  Sandy nods in confirmation.  “The fuck!”

“Bitch you’re the one who fucked off, nobody knew where you were, how were we supposed to update you?” Sandy asked.

“Mick and Ian both had my number.”  She seethes, grabbing her purse from the couch and storming out of the house.

The walk to the Gallagher house was only a few blocks, the bitter morning air biting at her exposed arms.  She reached the front door and fumbled in the plant pot to the side, looking for the spare key that was kept there years prior.  Ian had shown her where it was in case she needed to get away from home for a bit.  She felt cold metal at her fingertips.  Bingo!  Still there.

Walking into the house, it was the same as it always had been.  Slightly more run down since she was last here, a few more stains on the floor.  But there was a distinct absence of people, the same thing she’d noticed with her own house.  She can’t have been gone that long… right?

She slowly climbed up the stairs, and upon reaching the top could hear her brother’s voice instantly.  “Your PO ain’t that bad, Red, just suck it up.  No one likes their PO.”  Mandy followed the sound of her brother’s voice over to the open accordion door, peering in.

Ian’s sat on the bed, frowning over at her brother, who sits smoking on the window.  Shirtless.  With Ian’s name unmistakably tattooed on his chest.  What? 

Before she figured out how she was going to play this, Ian spotted her.  “Mandy?” He asked, pulling himself up from the bed.  “Holy fuck!  It is you!”  He runs over and envelopes her in a hug.  “When did you get back?”

“Ian!” She smiles, returning the hug.  She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her best friend until he had his arms around her.  “When did I get back?  The fuck is going on with you. Blowing up a fucking van!” she hits him.  She’d read about Ian’s escapades in the newspaper when she’d been working at a small convenience store.

“The fuck are you doin’ here?” Mickey asks from the window.

“What the hell asshole!” she replies, removing herself from Ian and turning to him.  “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Mickey shrugs.

“Hold up a second.  Firstly, what the fuck I haven’t heard from you in years!  You didn’t tell me you were out.”

“Bitch I’ve been in fuckin’ prison, then to Mexico and back in since I last heard from you.” Mickey retorts.

“Secondly,” Mandy continues, “is that Ian’s name on your chest?”

“Who the fuck else’s name would I have on my chest?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure ‘cause it’s not spelt right,” Mandy laughs.

“Already told him,” Ian tells her, laughing along with her and moving back to sit on the bed.

“Oh fuck off, the both of you.”

“Awww Mick!” Mandy smiles.  She turns to Ian, joining him on the bed.  “Never knew my brother could be such a softie.”

“OK.  Fuck off.  Time for you to leave.” Mickey grumbles.

Iggy & Colin

“’Ey, look who’s back from Mexico!” Iggy cheers as Mickey enters the Milkovich house.

“The fuck have you been, bro?” Colin asks, taking a sip from his beer.  Both of his brothers sat in the dimly lit living room, drinking beer with some action movie on in the background.  The house hadn’t changed in the years Mickey had been gone.  Still falling apart.  Still dirty.  Still full of idiots.

“Prison.  Mexico.  Prison.” Mickey says, slumping down on the sofa next to them.  He scrunches his nose.  “What stinks?”

“Colin’s decided showering is gay,” Iggy informs him.

“What the fuck?” Mickey shoots Colin a questioning look. Colin is about to explain, but Mickey holds up his hand.  “Nevermind.  I don’t wanna know.”

“Pro’ly hasn’t showered since you were here last,” Iggy laughs.

“He’s not been gone that long,” Colin says, lighting up a cigarette.

“The fuck?” Mickey asks, looking at his brother in complete disbelief.

“Nah man, he’s been gone a few months,” Iggy says.

“What the fuck!  I’ve been gone years shitheads!” Mickey shouts.

“Really?  Didn’t notice.”  Colin shrugs.

“Too busy gettin’ turned down by every girl at the Alibi,” Iggy laughs.

“Didn’t fuckin’ notice?” Mickey snaps.  “Fuckin’ idiots.”  He grabs the closest thing to him, the TV remote, and lobs it at Colin’s head.

“Fuckin’ asshole!” Iggy shouts, the remote completely missing Colin and hitting him in the head.  He jumps off the sofa, throwing himself on top of Mickey.

Mickey punches him before he can get a good punch in himself, the force causing them both to fall to the floor.  They scramble around on the floor like children until Colin steps in.

“You can’t come here and start shit, idiot!” He says, pulling Mickey up by his shirt.

“You’re the fuckin’ idiots!” Mickey retorts, thrashing against Colin.  He stops when he notices Colin’s face, idiocy replaced with disbelief and confusion. 

“What?”

“Gallagher?” Colin asks.

“What are you talking about?” Mickey asks.

“Ohhh!” Iggy taunts.  “Better make sure Pops don’t see that.”

Mickey looks down, noticing his tattoo on show, his vest having slipped when Colin grabbed him. 

“Wait.  Am I missing something?” Colin asks, letting Mickey back to the floor.

“Gallagher’s his boyfriend.”  Iggy shrugs.

“You’re a fag?” Colin asks.

“You didn’t know he was gay?”

“You’re a fag!”  Colin laughs.  “Oh my god.  And you got a guy’s name on your chest.  Oh my god!”  Colin breaks down into fits of laughter.

“What’s so funny, shitstain? Mickey asks, pulling his shirt back into place.

“You literally did the gayest thing you could do,” Colin gets out between laughs.  “Igg’s right, Pop’s is gonna kill you.”

“Not if you don’t fuckin’ tell him!”  Mickey knows his brothers are idiots, but he doesn’t think they’re that stupid.  “Also I’m sure taking it up the ass is the gayest thing I could do,” Mickey shrugs.

“Ew.  Gross!  You take it up the ass!” Iggy fake gags.

“Everything you say gets gayer,” Colin laughs.

“But you guys aren’t gonna tell him, right?” Mickey confirms.

“Yeah, yeah, little bro, your funeral,” Colin says, rubbing Mickeys hair like a child.

“How did you not know I’m gay?” Mickey asked.

“That ginger guy was living here for months, dude!” Iggy says, punching Colin in the arm.

“I dunno.  He was married.”

“And kissing a dude in the kitchen!”

“Nah he was married to a girl, man.”

Mickey shook his head, walking toward the kitchen in search of food.  Idiots.

Terry

“He’s gay Terry.  I’m gay.  People are gay.” Sandy says, bored of the conversation and getting up from the table where the Milkovich family are filing serial numbers off guns.

“Super gay,” Colin laughs.  Mickey shoots him a glare.  If he doesn’t shut the fuck up, he’s gonna have to kill him.

“You ain’t marrying a man.  Milkovich men marry vaginas.  Period!” Terry sneers.

“Not that big of a deal, he’s already got his name on his –” Colin says, Iggy quickly covering his mouth before he can finish.

Mickey covers his face with his hands.  He cannot comprehend the stupidity of his brothers right now.  What the fuck!

“He’s got what?” Terry asks, unnervingly calmly.

“Nothing.”  Colin says quickly.

“Yeah, definitely nothing.” Iggy confirms. 

Sandy shoots Mickey a worried glance.  He bites the corner of his lip, staying silent, telling himself to keep breathing.  Terry doesn’t know anything.

“Got his name where?” Terry asks again slowly, shooting a death glare across the table at Mickey.

“Don’t know what they’re talkin’ about Pops,” Mickey replies, praying that his brothers don’t say anything else stupid.  He shoots them both warning glares.

Terry moves to look over at Colin, who goes white.  “Nothin’ Pops, he don’t have nothin’ on his chest.”

Mickey stands still in complete disbelief for a second.  Before he can react, Terry stands, flipping over the table in anger, causing guns to fall to the floor in a loud crash.  He stalks over to Mickey, pulling down his shirt and seeing red.

Mickey shoves him off, and Terry lunges at him, gun still in hand, striking Mickey across the face with it.  Mickey sees stars.  It’s been a while since this happened.  He forgot the pain.  Terry’s got him pinned to the floor, unable to escape.

“Fuckin’ fag.  I’m gonna kill you!” he shouts, hitting Mickey across the head again.

Suddenly, the weight of Terry is gone, Sandy hanging from his back, Iggy, and Colin each holding one of his arms as he fights against them.

“Run!” Sandy shouts at him. 

Ian

Ian’s lying in bed when Mickey gets home, and the second he sees his boyfriend he can’t breathe.  “What happened?” he asks, jumping up off the bed to inspect the damage of Mickey’s face.  Two black eyes forming, a large gash on the side of his face and a split lip. 

“Terry,” Mickey mumbles, peeling off his blood-stained vest.

“You went home?” Ian asks.

“Yeah.”

“Not sure why you keep going back there,” he sighs, pulling his boyfriend toward the bed.  They lay down together, Mickey laying on Ian’s shoulder.

“He found out about the tattoo,” Mickey murmurs into Ian’s shoulder.

“What?  Mandy told him?”

“No.  No.  Stupid idiot brothers,” he sighs.

“Your brothers know about it?”

“Yeah.”  Mickey offers no explanation.

Ian traces his name across Mickey’s chest.  “You know, I love it,” Ian whispers to him.

“I love you,” Mickey mumbles, looking up and meeting Ian’s eyes.

“I love you, too.”